


Audaces Fortuna Iuvat

by Mind_in_a_Jar



Category: RWBY
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Dirty Thoughts, F/F, Futanari, Futanari Yang Xiao Long, Light Dom/sub, POV Weiss Schnee, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Character, Succeeded Seduction, Title means 'Fortune Favors the Bold' if ye cant read latin, Weiss has an Active Imagination, Weiss is kind of slutty, Yang is Strong, but only in her own head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23553367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mind_in_a_Jar/pseuds/Mind_in_a_Jar
Summary: Weiss has always had a bit of an...overactive imagination, in private. Just fantasies, if lurid ones. Quiet little things, that whispers sinfully sweet things in her ears of strangers and taboo things. There was no harm in that, it never affected how she acted in public or who she associated with. She was always proud, always the upstanding student and Huntress-in-Training. She never would have imagined wanting to make those fantasies a reality. Yang Xiao Long, through no effort of her own, changed that. And now, all Weiss could think about was making real every dirty thing she'd dreamed of when alone.In which Weiss likes masturbating to the idea of herself acting slutty but doesn't actually want to, at least until she realizes that she really wants Yang to pound her into next week (because honestly, there isn't a soul on Earth or Remnant who doesn't). Also, all characters are of-age, duh.
Relationships: Weiss Schnee/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 54
Kudos: 267





	Audaces Fortuna Iuvat

It wasn’t her fault. Really it wasn’t.

Weiss had always been just a little...repressed. Growing up, she’d never been allowed much of a social life. Well, tell a lie, her father had allowed her some friends to keep. But that was just the problem, really. He’d  _ allowed  _ them to her, in the same way he kept up with her Lien allowance. They weren’t her friends any more than the sheets on her bed were a lover’s caress.

She’d never really gotten to grow up, and had developed a few nasty habits over the years. Her short temper, her need to isolate herself, all borne from her lack of honest, real socialization and friendship. It was the reason why the relatively minor annoyance of her luggage being knocked over on her first day at Beacon caused her to scream at the person who would shortly become her first true friend. There were more malignant behaviors Weiss had developed while growing up, but parallel to those were the ways her years in isolation had stunted her development. She’d never gotten to have a childhood, especially once the White Fang became more active, more violent. She’d never learned  _ how _ to socialize in a casual setting. Indeed, had Ozpin not assigned Weiss a team and dictated she share a room with her teammates, she probably would have coasted through Beacon at the top of her class but completely without the aid of her peers. She’d never learned how to operate as part of a team of equals, only as subordinate and superior. She’d never learned how far quiet humility could take you.

She’d also never had the chance to explore the more... _ risque _ side of her humanity.

Sure, a few people had hit on her at her family’s parties, but their eyes were more often set on her wallet and her family crest than on  _ her _ . Those whose eyes weren’t already shining with Lien after only introducing themselves were only ever interested in bedding a Schnee. There was no sense that they wanted  _ her _ , they only wanted to get their rocks off and be able to brag that they’d talked their way into a Schnee’s pants after. 

She had to admit, if only to the privacy of her mind, that the thought of obliging them did give her some perverse sort of thrill. That same urge that motivated her to tie her hair up asymmetrically, that motivated her to apply to Beacon rather than Atlas, that pushed her to defy every preconception about her name and her place in the world, also fueled her dirtier whims, the ones she dared not indulge under her family’s roof. Of, at one of her parties, actually saying ‘yes’. Of taking a guest from the ballroom and inviting them up into her bedroom. Lifting her skirt for them, spreading her legs and letting them do as they please with hand or tongue or strap or cock-

She shook her head, she was getting off track. The idea never failed her, never failed to send a burst of heat rushing right to the apex of her legs, followed shortly by her own hand if she had the time and privacy. She’d never dared indulge it for many reasons, but the fantasy was always there. That was as far as her sexuality had ever really developed. She’d never had a partner with which to explore with, in either the romantic or the purely sexual sense. All she’d had to mature on were her fantasies.

It was the one bit of kinship she’d ever felt with her brother. Winter was always the person Weiss looked up to for advice growing up, but she’d never had any sort of sexuality to her.. Perhaps Weiss had been too young to see it, or maybe Winter truly had never had the same urges as Weiss, but Winter was always warm hugs and steel arms. Once she left for the Military and the weight of the Company’s inheritance fell to Weiss’s shoulders, she found herself ever more entranced by that little, beautiful and filthy fantasy of hers. Ever more desperate. Whitley hit a similar stage then, Weiss had found out. It was in conspiracy with him that Weiss had procured her first ever tool with which to relieve herself. Weiss, as the newly minted Heiress, was under the most intense scrutiny. Whitley was the youngest, though, and the least visible of the three of their generation. Weiss liked to think she was the most intelligent of Jacques and Willow’s offspring, but Whitley was the craftiest. The most conniving. Together and both hitting puberty the way a boarbatusk hits wedding cake, they’d devised a plan to smuggle a few illicit bits of contraband past the Manor’s security. Weiss made a point never to ask what exactly Whitley had gotten, and Whitley offered her the same courtesy, but she remembered fondly the joy of finally holding in her hands that six-inch long velvet-lined box.

Remembered even more fondly the joy laying in her bed, minutes later, legs wantonly spread while she climaxed around it harder than she ever had in her life.

Weiss jolted back to the present at the feeling of the heel of her palm grinding against her crotch through her skirt. Off track, again. She’d kept her toy with her for years. A modestly sized, pale blue dildo. Until she moved to Vale, it was all she’d had, but she’d gotten her money’s worth and then some. It was a bit awkward, though. She preferred using her toy over bringing herself off with her hand. The stretch did a lot for her, the feeling of being filled. The cramped living arrangements presented an issue, though. When she pushed her toy into herself, pistoned it and worked it into all of her sweet spots, she, ah, had a bit of trouble keeping herself quiet. Her hands were less satisfying, but did the job well enough in a pinch without the risk of singing her teammates a aria at one in the morning. So long as her mind was set right, it would suffice, and after so much refinement, she’d gotten her fantasies down to a science. Sometimes, in her fantasy, the person would be faceless. Not a  _ nobody _ , but an  _ anybody _ , if that made sense. Sometimes male, and sometimes female. Always, though, they’d be larger than her. Dominant. Rough. They wouldn’t treat her like glass, like some frail, crystal trophy to be protected. Sometimes the acquisition would be different. On some days, she’d imagine some formal event held in the manor. Maybe, as she stood bored to the side of the party, someone would strike up a conversation. Bold, with hunger in the eye, Weiss would find herself finally slipping, finally breaking. Not to her attempted seducer, no, but to herself. To the temptation of letting them do as they please. Other times, she’d imagine recruiting one of the manor’s drivers to her side. They’d drive her around in some no doubt fabulously expensive car to all the busiest parts of Mantle. She’d find some man wandering the streets, on their way home from one of her family’s mines. The driver would pull over to the man, who would be weary of the SDC car stopping in front of him. That trepidation would turn to shock, though, as the heavily tinted window rolled down to reveal the  _ heiress of the company  _ in the back seat of the car, beckoning him forward for a little  _ bonus _ for all his  _ hard work _ . Of course he’d accept, at least in Weiss’s fantasy. Maybe she’d pull up her skirt to flash some leg, or maybe just go all the way and be naked before the window even rolled down. Regardless, he’d accept, and climb in. He’d fuck her there, parked on the side of the road. The people walking past on the street would be none the wiser, the tinted windows hiding the way Weiss Schnee’s legs hung spread in the air like some common harlot, the sound proofing covering her breathless whines and begs as she was screwed. He’d press inside and fill her right there, in the back seat of an SDC branded limousine, and then be on his way. Leave her there spread lewly across the seat and  _ dripping _ the evidence of their rendezvous onto the fine leather seat. Maybe he’d tell his friends at work the next day, spread around the salacious little rumor. Maybe Weiss would have to stop by the mine for a...surprise inspection. Spend some time amongst the workers,  _ boosting morale _ .

Ooh, or maybe one of the manor’s own security guards, how scandalous. They hired from the Atlesian military for their personal guard, some deal Jacques had struck with General Ironwood. When Winter would come home on leave to visit her siblings (because honestly, she certainly didn’t visit home to see their parents), she often talked of how grueling the Army’s boot camp was. How Atlas demanded absolute peak performance from it’s footsoldiers. Weiss imagined all that training, the will that would motivate a soldier through the mud and the screaming of Drill Sergeants. How dedicated a person must be to get through it, and how frustrating to then be stationed in some cushy mansion where nothing ever happened, watching over a posh family of billionaires. Eager for anything to ease the boredom, of  _ course _ they’d accept the invitation to follow the Schnee daughter to her room. Standard Atlesian armor was made of hard metal under ablative ceramic plating, providing moderate protection against both the claws of the creatures of Grimm, as well as gunfire. Face-concealing helmets means Weiss wouldn’t be  _ entirely _ sure of what to expect, but Fantasy-Weiss didn’t care.  _ Anyone _ would do. Layers of armor would fall away, impatient, revealing broad shoulders and firm arms that did nothing to take away from the soft curve of the soldier’s breasts. She’d be frustrated, pent-up. She’d grab at Weiss before she’d even had a chance to shed her dress and take her to the bed. Ripped clothes would have to be thrown away before the house’s staff could have a chance to ask, but they would be a worthy sacrifice. Heated breath on her neck, the soldier would be nearly inconsiderate, shoving her hands under Weiss’s thousand-lien skirt to tug down panties, only for her fingers to meet heated flesh and slick instead of cloth. Of course, what need did Weiss have to wear underwear when she’d already planned on letting the soldier bed her? Grinning like a cat with a cornered mouse, the other woman would yank down the collar of Weiss’s dress, curious if her lack of decency extended through to her bra as well. Weiss’s mind would register the sound of tearing cloth, but it would only serve to make her burn hotter. The woman would tease her relentlessly, making Weiss feel some of the frustration she had been made to bear, before shedding the army-issued underwear and crawling up to straddle Weiss’s head. She’d be rough, as rough as the man in the car. Pulling Weiss’s hair, forcing her willing mouth and tongue against the burning velvet flesh, demanding what the Schnee was oh-so eager to give. Weiss could almost taste it, in this little dream. Like an aftertaste as she lie alone in bed, hands wringing her own body dry, just a hint of honeyed saltiness on the back of her tongue. She’d thought a few times of tasting herself, there was always more than enough fluid clinging to her hands and stretching in strings between her fingers to get a good taste. She’d never had the nerve for it though, her curiosity never quite managing to beat out her trepidation. Back in her fantasy though, the soldier would give as good as she got. Weiss would leave teeth marks on her bed sheets when she came, clenching around her guard’s fingers or tongue or strap. Maybe that next day the guards would rotate out, and the woman would return to her barracks. SDC guard duty would have had a reputation for being boring as all hell. But maybe, she’d tell her comrades of a little, off-record benefit to the station. Maybe that next week, some bold young corporal would see how true his friend’s rumor was. Maybe once that was confirmed, he’d tell more of his soldiers. Maybe Weiss would have to keep her door unlocked, after that. Start sleeping without underwear under her nightdress, in case any of her guards wished to come in and take their payment for themselves. They’d come for the lien, but they’d  _ cum  _ for her.

Brothers, that one was bad. Let’s leave the puns to Yang.

Oh, right, Yang. That’s why she was here in her own head right now, what she’d intended to address before getting sucked back into her fantasies.

Because that is all they were, fantasies. Fantasy-Weiss would probably have quite the reputation amongst the Atlesian Military’s enlisted, or the SDC’s workforce, depending on which daydream she was entertaining at the time. They’d call her all sorts of names as they took her, filled her, wrung her dry like some kind of whore. Though, thinking about it,  _ she _ was paying  _ them _ , really, so maybe that label didn’t fit (as much as it wet her panties to imagine). Real-Weiss was far too good at holding up her persona, though, to ever indulge those dreams in real life. It wasn’t all persona, though. Her rigid back and measured steps called for respect she did truly want. Her tireless work in both the classroom and the arena were the result of a genuine desire to both  _ be _ the best and to be  _ seen _ as the best. To be respected and be confident that she deserved that respect. Ninety percent of the time, her every move was calculated, her every thought honed to finest efficiency. Not to maintain the persona her name and family demanded of her, but because she demanded perfection of  _ herself _ . That other ten percent, though…

Mmm.

She’d never  _ really _ give body to someone she didn’t trust. She was still a virgin, after all (if only technically, having taken her dildo more times than she could reasonably be expected to remember). Would never  _ really _ proposition someone she didn’t know. She just...occasionally wished she could. And would think of it while riding her toy until she saw white. 

She’d been on this train of thought too long, if she didn’t correct it now she’d no doubt waste her little bit of free time alone in the dorm kneading an orgasm out of herself. Not an unworthy passtime, but she really needed to think through this relatively new problem. 

She’d never really been in any sort of situation where she could explore her sexuality growing up. Her fantasies had developed over time, but they were fantastical. They would arouse her with almost concerning ease, but they were never a potentially real outcome of any situation. Upon arriving at Beacon, nearly a year ago now, she’d been allowed to spread her wings in many ways. She’d advanced her social skills by leaps and bounds, learned how to work with people she didn’t necessarily like, and learned that first impressions didn’t mean everything. Her attitude towards the faunus had been flipped on its head, but in a good way and, while her opinion of the White Fang was as negative as ever, it had matured a great deal thanks to her semi-frequent talks with Blake over coffee and tea. She had a flourishing social circle who she trusted both as fighters and as friends. She was happier than she had ever been.

That part of her brain, though, the part that tasted like dark chocolate dipped in Mistrali rum, had grown too. Matured alongside the other parts of Weiss’s personality in a way that had resulted in a... _ problem _ . See, she’d never been attracted to anyone more than superficially. Eye candy was nice and all, but it was never her partner in her fantasies that set her alight and had her honey running in rivulets down her thighs, but instead the inherent thrill she felt in the dirtiness of fantasy-Weiss’s behavior. That was why there was never a set partner or scene for Weiss. What got her was the idea of hiking up her skirt and bending over or spreading her legs for whomever wanted to come and take her, or letting them press inside of her and let themselves unload in her slick warmth or across her willing face or something equally as degrading to her social stature as a Schnee. This new thing was...different and alarming because it was simultaneously  _ just as hot _ , just as capable of causing her blood to rush south with such force and speed that it made her dizzy, but had the added effect that it was absolutely, completely, deliriously  _ possible _ . So possible, in fact, that she struggled to even think the words.

Alright, she could do this. Whether she admitted it to herself or not, it didn’t make it any less true. May as well be honest with herself so she could actually address the issue like a competent human being. Like tearing off a bandaid. Just  **_admit it_ ** _. _

She wanted Yang to fuck her. She wanted Yang to fuck her,  _ bad _ .

A thrill ran down her spine to accompany the heat that very quickly spread throughout her lower stomach. Brothers, the thought alone made her knees weak, made her horny enough that her head felt light. She licked her suddenly dry lips.

She couldn’t really pinpoint when the feeling first took root in her, so that was probably her first order of business. Certainly not in the first few weeks, as Weiss was too busy being annoyed at Yang’s loud personality and Yang was too busy being mad at Weiss for treating Ruby poorly for any kind of attraction to form. After that, though, well…

Every student at Beacon who had a working pair of eyes (and most of the ones that didn’t) knew Yang was almost unfairly attractive. Weiss had certainly taken note of that, but only insofar as Yang caught more eyes than her. Over the course of their first semester, as they became actual close friends, it had probably begun to change into a more direct attraction. On the innocent side of things, Yang was a beautiful person. Aesthetically, yes, but behind her flashy, social-butterfly facade she hid an earnest and caring heart and a bright fire of passion. She had many qualities Weiss loved beyond these, of course, but now was not the time for her to reminisce in a deep character study of one of her closest friends. Weiss knew Yang was a wonderful person, right now she didn’t need to reaffirm that. She’d just focus on the physical for this bout of introspection, the carnal. Rubbing at her face with the hand that hadn’t been grinding against her clit through her panties, Weiss got back on track. Why she was so  _ hot _ for her partner’s sister. Yang was a very physical person, both in her affection and her aggressions. The former case allowed Weiss ample opportunities to feel Yang against her, whether she wanted to or not. Not that Weiss actively sought out hugs from Yang for a chance to feel her up. She may have a perverted part of her mind, but she wasn’t a creep. It was more that Yang greatly enjoyed surprising her teammates with bear-hug ambushes whenever they were distracted or she was proud of them or it was Tuesday. Even as Weiss had tried to actively avoid the hugs, there were some things one could not help but take notice of when Yang managed to capture her. The most prominent thing (or, rather, most prominent  _ two things _ ) was obvious with how Yang tended to press her victims into her chest, but were far from all Yang’s body had to offer. Her arms, too, rippled with the kind of strength that made Weiss gush while imagining her miners. The definition of her abs appealed to her soldier-fantasy, years of training and conditioning giving her the power of her core and legs to more than make Weiss salivate. She had the most stunning eyes Weiss had ever seen, and her hair was that special kind of gorgeous-soft that only came from years of care. It all came together to give Yang the kind of body that hit every note Weiss hadn’t even known her sex had.

Which begs the question, if so much of Yang’s body appealed to Weiss’s quiet depravities, why hadn’t she felt this sooner?

Well, the answer lie in the second half of that phrase, ‘affection and aggression’. See, for a long time, Weiss had never seen Yang angry at her. She’d been mad before, over the Ruby thing, or had gotten surly over some of the less-than-reasonable study sessions Weiss had put the team through, sure, but that was more catty than anything. Annoyed. Never  _ angry _ . Angry Yang was a sight to behold. Weiss had seen it many times, seen those lilacs go red, seen her hair ignite with her semblance. She’d seen what Yang would do to Grimm like that. Once, a beowolf had blindsided Ruby during a hunt. Yang, seeing red, had grabbed ahold of it’s upper and lower jaw and nearly  _ rent _ the thing it two. Another time, Vale was undergoing one of the heaviest heat waves the kingdom had seen in years. Yang had made the decision to forgo her jacket for the day as they headed out into Forever Fall to search for some rare herb for Professor Peach. On that excursion, Weiss had the pleasure of watching Yang heave an Ursa over her shoulder and into a tree, arms and shoulders practically bare in her tank top and rippling with the herculean effort. There was a physicality there that Weiss could appreciate as attractive at the time, but it was always vague, then. No more than a ‘wow, that was kinda hot’ in some quiet corner of her brain (one that was evidently less well-spoken than the forefront). It didn’t replace Weiss’s knees with gelatin, nor cause her to soak through her panties. The first time Weiss saw that anger directed at  _ her _ , though...

It was a relatively routine training hunt they were undergoing for Port’s class. Hunting an elusive beowolf pack out in the Emerald Forest. It was a grueling exercise in patience and tracking, as the pack’s alpha had a tendency to hide when challenged rather than fight and die, leaving behind just enough Grimm to keep the team busy while the remainder made their escape. They were all a little raw once the hunt stretched into its ninth hour without the chance to even lay eyes on the Alpha when they stumbled across a small hive of fledgling Death Stalkers at the base of a rocky cliff. The four made short work of the beasties, but the final baby Death Stalker, perhaps a bit smaller than Zwei, had lept at Yang from behind. Thinking it planned to plunge it’s stinger into Yang’s back, Weiss reacted on instinct. A gout of fire dust from Myrtenaster roasted the thing inside of it’s carapace by the time it had laid pincers on Yang’s hair, but the fire was too close, and soon the stench of burned hair was unmistakable. Weiss had known how much Yang cared for her hair, so an apology was already partially past her lips when Yang  _ moved _ . Weiss had her back to the cliff already, and Yang reacted in a flash of hot anger. She had slammed her hand into the wall of the cliff, boxing Weiss in between the stone and her body, her semblance’s heat rolling off of her in waves. Her air had come in puffs, like that of a bull, and never had their height difference been more pronounced. Yang’s hair had seemed to drape around her shoulders, as if shielding Weiss from the outside world, trapping her between Yang and the cold stone. She’d felt that twinge of fear, that hint of danger on the back of her tongue. Completely at Yang’s mercy. It was her eyes, though, that did it. Those eyes, the saccharine red that seemed the same color as the heat that pooled in Weiss’s gut, bored into hers for just a second, seeming to see right through her, as if Weiss had been stripped and laid bare before her. 

_ Brothers, _ she’d wish she had been.

She hadn’t understood it at the time. Too taken by fear and a touch of guilt to process it properly. After an all too brief second, Yang had breathed out, close enough for Weiss to feel it against her lips, “Be more careful next time,” and she was gone, stomping off to give herself a chance to cool. Ruby had spared Weiss a glance, probably noticing the blatant fear in Weiss’s eyes. She looked worried, but Weiss was more than a little embarrassed, so she’d waved Ruby off. Blake, though, gave Weiss a curious look. Weiss thought, maybe for a second, Blake’s nose twitched. She seemed to leave just too-fast to be normal, the hint of a blush coloring her cheeks. Suddenly afforded a brief bit of privacy, Weiss took stock of herself. That was when she noticed it, for the first time. Her knees were shaking like leaves in a gale, her breathing was tight and desperate, and her cunt was on  _ fire _ . She didn’t even need to reach down and check; she’d soaked through her underwear.

That must have been it, then. The lynchpin moment. The moment when Weiss realized that if Yang had, in that moment, ripped Weiss’s skirt up and taken her right there in the dirt of the Emerald Forest, Weiss would not have stopped her. No, in fact, Weiss felt that she probably would have begged and moaned for Yang to  _ not _ stop. Legs wrapped around her waist, panties dangling off of one ankle, crying out her pleasure into the woods and clutching at those powerful shoulders while Yang took out her anger on Weiss’s poor body.

Focus, Weiss. Work out your thoughts first, masturbate later.

It had only gotten worse since then. They shared a room, shared all of their combat classes. Over the course of the past month or so since her little revelation, it had become increasingly common for Weiss’s eyes to drift in the locker room, or in the dorm. More than once, Weiss had been graced with the sight of Yang tugging a shirt heavy with sweat over her head after a particularly strenuous bout in Goodwitch’s arena. By all that was good in this world, the woman was an Adonis. Weiss often found herself staring in the gym as those muscles, rife with physical power, rippled and labored to move the kind of weights Weiss could only dream of lifting. It was all she could do to keep on her feet when they sparred. The sheer  _ want _ that Weiss had: to feel those muscles working against her, pressing her down, feel those abs clench under her hands, feel the impact of her skull-crushing legs thrusting her hips with the desperate force of an animal staking its claim on it’s mate.

That thirst was bad enough, but it got...so much worse in the past week. So much worse since the  _ incident _ . Each member of a team had many of the same classes, but they also had individual electives independent of their teammates. Last week, Weiss had...fallen to one of her fantasies during a lecture. She’d seized around her toy a few times now with the image of her teammate on her mind, but that day was...particularly bad. So bad, that Weiss had prematurely excused herself from class to return to the blessedly empty dorm to relieve herself. It was all she could do to maintain her stoic demeanor as she marched through the halls. By the time the dorm door slid closed, her heart was pounding in her chest and her breath was coming like that of a dog in heat. She knew her teammate’s schedules’. Ruby had her leadership class, Blake was in Mistrali Literature, and Yang had a secondary weight training class right now. She had the dorm to herself for at least an hour, and she planned to  _ use _ it. She practically tore her panties off as she grabbed her toy and dove onto her bed, too impatient to remove anything else. Already her mind was spooling up a fantasy for her to get lost in. A dirty little thing, a narrative wherein Weiss made a crucial mistake in Goodwitch’s combat class during a two-person drill (not something real-Weiss would ever do, mind, but she would allow fantasy-Weiss some measure of leniency) involving her and Yang. Her mistake would lead to the two receiving joint detention later. Yang would be furious. Luckily for the blonde, the locker rooms after class would be empty save the two of them. She would corner the smaller girl, press her against a locker and get her payback exactly how she wanted it.

It was a glorious little thing, and had Weiss pressing her right fist into her mouth to keep quiet as her left clutched her dildo, wearing out her wrist under her skirt and filling her with that  _ delicious _ stretch she craved so horribly. Her cheeks burned as she imagined Yang’s hand pressing her shoulder firmly into the locker behind Weiss while her other had Weiss’s skirt gathered around it’s wrist. Yang's handshakes could be bone breaking, but her handwriting was neat. Strong and dexterous fingers, then, worked away at the crux of Weiss’s thighs while the red, red eyes bored into Weiss’s pale blues. Just one at first (she wanted to break Weiss, not hurt her). When it became apparent that Weiss could handle it, as second would follow. Then a third. Forcing the soft petals apart to rub and spread the slick pink muscle beneath. Those that didn’t know Yang well assumed she was stupid, or unobservant. Shallow. Weiss knew better, knew it was a part of the facade Yang wore much in the same way Weiss wore her faux-cold personality. Yang was viciously intelligent, and had an uncanny ability to read people when it mattered. She was keenly observant, and could be very analytical when the situation required. Yang’s eyes would bore into Weiss’s, watching every unique little twitch of her face and hearing each pitch change in her cries. The irregular rhythm would frustrate Weiss, at first, not able to build up to a proper orgasm when Yang wasn’t consistent with her hands. It was only when Yang hit a spot that made white clouds explode in Weiss’s vision and a feral grin spread across Yang’s lips that Weiss realized she’d been  _ searching _ . Now that she’d found what she’d been looking for, her fingers worked it over relentlessly. Her eyes never left Weiss’s face, and Weiss couldn’t look away as without words Yang demanded that Weiss  _ shatter _ .

That was where Weiss had been in her fantasy. Fantasy-Weiss was on the precipice of climax, and Real-Weiss was right there with her. Her wrist was on the verge of cramping, but she didn’t care because release was  _ right there _ -

And that’s when the bathroom door opened.

Thank the Two Brothers, she’d reacted quickly enough to yank her blanket over her up to her nose. In secondary thanks, she  _ hadn’t  _ thought to cover her eyes. Because what she saw next was  _ glorious _ .

In her haze of lust she’d missed the sound of the shower running, not noticed the obvious signs spread around the room that she wasn’t really alone. Yang had come back early from her weight training class, or perhaps skipped it all together. She’d been in the shower, bathing, while Weiss had been just scant feet away trying desperately to cum. Yang had thought  _ she’d _ had the room to herself for an hour, and had expected the privacy of the bathroom to extend to the rest of the dorm. The door opened and released a small cloud of steam as Yang stepped out of the bathroom, in front of and to Weiss’s right.

As such, Weiss was treated to the view of Yang’s completely naked body. In the brief five-second window before Yang registered Weiss’s presence, Weiss raked her eyes from top to bottom. Yang had her hair tied up in a towel and, though she had dried herself, thin droplets of water still decorated her skin. Slightly tanned, every inch of Yang’s skin seemed so  _ soft _ , still glowing a faint pink from the unholy hellfire Yang called a ‘warm shower’. Weiss’s eyes, like that of a hawk, tracked a single lucky droplet as it rolled off of Yang’s clavicle and down into the valley of her cleavage. Broad, muscular shoulders flowed down into those perfectly supple breasts. Weiss saw the hint of the tanline from whatever bikini Yang had worn the last time she’d been on a beach, where tan gave way to just-barely-milkier skin. They shifted slightly but visibly as Yang suddenly halted. Her nipples were hard, that Weiss could see. Likely from the temperature change from the humid bathroom to the cool dorm. Weiss could imagine how they would taste against her tongue, how her teeth would feel against the tender flesh of the underside of Yang’s breasts. Weiss eyes raked across Yang’s abs in the way Weiss wished her fingers could. Lower, Weiss’s eyes, hungry, devoured Yang’s V-line. It was defined in a way that  _ must _ be illegal. With the hand that had been used as a gag earlier, Weiss held her blanket up in front of herself to hide the vicious blush tinting her cheeks, sitting up in a way she hoped would make it look as if she had simply been lounging in her bed and not pounding her favourite toy in and out of her snatch. A toy which was still very much inside of her, and which she’d just inadvertently sat on.

It would give fate a cheshire grin, then, that at that moment Weiss’s eyes fell lower. Very swiftly, two revelations hit Weiss like twin hammerblows. Firstly, Yang had a cock. Secondly, Yang had a  _ gorgeous _ cock.

Suddenly, the entire landscape of her fantasy changed. Now, it wasn’t Yang’s  _ fingers _ inside of Weiss’s cunt. Instead, both of Yang’s hands had pinned Weiss’s wrists to the lockers. With her skirt hiked up to her hips, it was that beautiful, turgid cock pressing inside of her, filling her out.

Instead of hard eyes imploring Weiss to give in and break, they were feral. Driven by lust and pleasure as Yang thrust in and out of Weiss’s wet, willing heat. Her eyes demanded that Weiss take it, accept it. When Yang thrust in one final time, bottomed out with all of herself within Weiss’s clenching flesh, and held there so deep, a visceral growl rose in the back of Yang's throat. Weiss knew what that meant, knew what the hot throbbing she could feel against her walls heralded. Finally, heat like no other blossomed inside Weiss, thick and wet and virile.

Weiss thanked her foresight to hide her body behind her blanket, because at the thought and sight, she promptly came. 

By some miracle, Weiss had managed to hold the orgasmic noises within herself, disguising her solitary whine as one of surprise. Never once though did her eyes stray from Yang’s cock, etching the image into every nerve her brain could find to etch it into.

Brothers, Yang was  _ perfect _ .

Purple eyes blew wide open before, with a yelp, Yang flew into the bathroom again. An awkward conversation soon followed, once Yang had the chance to dress herself and Weiss stopped trembling. Anxiety pierced Weiss after, worried Yang had known what she’d been doing, that Yang would be upset with her. Any semblance of heat was lost when Yang sat down next to her, back in a pair of boyshorts and a tank top. Weiss's Lust had given way to a cold sense of awkwardness. 

They sat in silence for a second or two, neither meeting the other’s eyes. Once the quiet became too much for her, Yang rubbed at the back of her neck and blew air out of her cheeks, “So, uh, that was a thing…?”

“Ye-” She’d attempted to reply, and failed when the words seemed to catch in her throat. She cleared her throat and tried again, “It certainly was, yes.”

After, Yang explained why she was back early. Weiss lied through her teeth and claimed her own class had been let out, and that she had come back to relax. She didn’t miss how Yang’s eyes lingered on her after she had said that, and Weiss feared Yang knew what Weiss had been doing. If she had sussed her out, though, Yang decided not to press the issue. Instead, she pursed her lips and seemed to steel herself with a deep breath, “Okay, no sense in pretending you didn’t get an eyeful. You definitely saw something you weren’t expecting to see.”

Weiss had pointedly ignored thinking about the perfect, crystal memory of Yang’s cock up until then. Now that Yang had brought it up, Weiss’s eyes immediately snapped to the black spats Yang wore, feeling the sudden need to wet her lips. The lips on her face, that is. Only allowing herself a brief glance, Weiss went back to staring at the carpet. Much less interesting, but much safer.

Yang continued, imploring, “Well, uh, what do you think?”

She couldn’t be asking...but what else could she mean if not  _ that _ . A hot blush bloomed across Weiss’s cheeks as she struggled for an answer. How was she supposed to respond to that? Truthfully? Certainly not, she doubted it would be appropriate to express just how much she suddenly wanted to taste it against her tongue. She shouldn’t be dismissive either, though, right? After a moment, she  _ thoroughly _ embarrassed herself by answering, “It was...quite nice…?”

“Oh, uh,” Yang stammered before turning and coughing into her hand, “Thanks…? Not really what I was asking but good to know.” Sparing a glance, Weiss saw that Yang was blushing just as hard as she herself was. 

Suddenly indignant, Weiss felt her voice go a bit shrill as she sat up straighter, “Well then what else could you have been asking?”

“I mean, I just wanted to know if you thought I was like a freak.” She turned to meet Weiss’s eyes, blush still coloring her cheeks but a sly half-grin on her lips, “Your eyes sorta went,” she splayed her hands out in front of her face while making a little explosion sound effect with her mouth before continuing with a teasing lilt to her voice, “I was worried you were like, shocked or grossed out or something. But I guess not, if you thought it was  _ quite nice. _ ”

Shocked, maybe. Grossed out? No, Weiss was grossed out by the locker room floors, or by cafeteria hamburgers. If the sight had disgusted her, Weiss wouldn’t be sitting here a week later wishing she had dropped to her knees right there to show Yang how much she appreciated her anatomy. How much she wished she had been able to feel that cock’s warmth across her face, or slipping between her lips and over her tongue into her throat.

Thankfully, the situation had resolved itself easily enough. Yang had a way of melting tension out of situations, making the awkward manageable. It would have been the end of it had Weiss  _ not _ been viciously attracted to Yang. As it was, though…

It wasn’t her fault, really.  _ Yang _ was the one who was so stunning from hair to boots. Weiss couldn’t really help that she wanted to see Yang above her, on top of her. Maybe she would have been able to get over it, brush it off as another flight of fancy generated by her sexual repression. Let the possibility of making her dreams a reality disappear from her mind. Now that she knew just what Yang was packing, though…

_ Brothers _ she wanted Yang to fuck her into her bed sheets. She wanted it more than she wanted her next meal, more than she wanted to be a huntress. She wanted it more than her ability to  _ breathe in and out _ , so long as Yang’s dick could be the thing that took that ability from her.

Finally coming to terms with the want inside of her own head, Weiss finally gave in. It was all she could do to tear off her clothes, save them from the mess she could tell she was about to make. She didn’t bother with her dildo, as much as she loved her toy it was smaller than Yang’s cock by an inch and significantly thinner. It wouldn’t do anymore. 

It wasn’t as if Yang’s cock was just  _ that _ good looking, either. It was more the fact that it was attached to Yang that did it for Weiss. Weiss had wanted Yang rabidly before she’d known, but it really was the cherry on top. The knowledge that Yang would be able to  _ feel _ Weiss, that she’d know of every shudder and quake, ever twitch inside of her. Knowing that Yang could press inside of her and lose herself to her feral side…

She wanted to see it so bad, see Yang’s eyes, red and awash with aggression and lust. Feel the way her muscles would clench with each demanding thrust. She wanted to feel Yang's breath at her throat, feel her lips against hers. She wanted to see how reality compared to her fantasies.

Dust, she was so wet. There wasn’t even a narrative this time, no scene for her mind to toy with. Just the idea of  _ Yang _ was slicking her thighs so, sending so much blood and heat rushing down to her womanhood. Causing her to roll her hips up into her fingers, as if her very body was begging for something more. Each breath came with a rasp, just the hint of a moan as her fingers ran in tight circles around her clit.

She arched her back, pushing her weight back onto her shoulders and planting her feet flat on her bedsheets. She longed to be pushing against something else, to feel her blonde friend pressing her down and overpowering her. Weiss wanted to push up against Yang just like this, and accomplish nothing but melding their bodies closer together. But alas, Weiss couldn't simulate that properly, couldn’t pin herself down.

There was a shift, a specific rush of pleasure that seemed higher pitch than the rest. A beautiful single note that heralded the final stretch. Weiss chewed her lip as she pushed herself harder, the feeling of release was  _ right there. _ Everything felt hot. Her body seemed a few short degrees from visibly steaming, but brothers, Yang’s would be so much hotter. Like glowing iron.

Weiss wasn’t one for profanity, usually. It wasn’t allowed of her back home, so she’d never developed the habit. Like this, though? Right there on the edge of orgasm with her friend’s name already on her lips?

Well, she didn’t want Yang to make love to her. Didn’t want them to have sex. No, she wanted Yang to  _ fuck _ her.

As her fingers pushed her diligently up the precipice, trembling lips parted as a glossy-wet tongue wetted them. Eyes firmly pressed closed, a single sentence slipped past her lips as a positively  _ sultry _ moan, “ _ Fuck me _ , Yang…”

And at the admission of truth, hormones still flying through her body, her scroll buzzed next to her pillow.

She was  _ right there _ , right on the edge of her orgasm. She could already feel it would be one of the best ones she’s had. But it wasn’t enough, her  _ hands _ weren’t enough. She was sure that if she pushed a little harder she could get enough stimulation to finish, she  _ could _ do it.

But she didn’t  **want** to.

She spared a glance at her scroll. At the little notification floating atop her lock screen.

**Y:** _Blake n Rubes are having one of there reading things in the library and Im bored. Imma be in the gym, but hmu if u wanna do anything._

Her breath was coming hard already, her body strung tight as a bowstring. It almost stung to tear her hands away from their rightful place between her thighs, but the lust thrumming through her demanded it. If her heart could beat any harder, it did. If her breath could be any tighter, it was. Hesitation, confliction gripped her. Should she do what she was about to do?

Her fingers got her fluid onto the screen of her scroll, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was that her message went through. 

**W:** _ I have an idea of something we can do together. Come back to the dorm. _

**Y:** _ Kk, be right their. _

There it was. Weiss was viciously, ferally horny, and Yang was just a few short minutes away. Her almost-orgasm died away, but left her ravenous for more. As hot as she was burning right now, she’d  _ have _ to go all the way. As much as she wanted Yang right now, it was an impossibility that she would chicken out. She’d done it, now she just had to determine how exactly to convince Yang under her skirt when she got here. More aroused than she’s ever been in her life, Weiss dropped her scroll and looked at her hands. She pressed her fingers together before spreading them out. The viscous fluid that coated them stretched in a bridge between her digits for a second before snapping. She breathed in the heady smell for a second before leaning in, fingers almost against her lips.

Before leaning back again. Still no, but who knows what kind of mental state she’d be in if Yang really did-

Oh, she should probably cover herself.

The sun was just beginning to set outside. It was a Friday, which meant they didn’t have a curfew. Knowing Blake and Ruby, they’d be in the library easily until one or two in the morning. Plenty of time. Now then...what should she wear…

_ Heated breath on her neck, the soldier would be nearly inconsiderate, shoving her hands under Weiss’s thousand-lien skirt to tug down panties, only for her fingers to meet heated flesh and slick. Of course, what need did Weiss have to wear underwear when she’d already planned on letting the soldier bed her? _

A fresh thrill ran down Weiss’s spine. How  _ racy _ . Dare she actually do it? Eying her nightdress, folded neatly on her nightstand, Weiss chewed her lip. The material was expensive and soft, barely-there. Light as a feather and breathable. It also only came down to her mid-thigh. Any semblance of decency it could provide her would be whisked away by a particularly quick movement or a sudden breeze. She’d be alone in a room with Yang, the only thing hiding her sinfully wet cunt being an almost-sheer piece of cloth.

_ Unf _ .

She pulled it on over her head, sweat already beading on her forehead and a blush already at her cheeks at how  _ scandalous _ it all was.

She was really going to go through with this, wasn’t she? 

Weiss checked herself in the room’s standing mirror, seeing how she looked. Tugging up her skirt, she gazed down over her body. Brothers, she could see her wetness painted on her inner thighs from here. She was attractive, she knew that, but she took a moment to chew her lip at her reflection one hand snaked down her body to demurely spread her lips with two fingers, showing the pink velvet flesh hidden inside. She knew how to make herself conventionally attractive. Knew how to seem the perfect Schnee heiress in front of a group of high-class socialites. She could manipulate her outfit and body language to say ‘I am above you in every way’ without ever opening her mouth. But now, she turned around and bent over, her skirt coming up to show that perfect peach-shaped butt she’d worked so hard on toning and her fingers spreading her labia apart….

Looking over her shoulder and meeting her own gaze, Weiss gave herself a bit of doe-eyes, teeth working at her lip. With a slight backwards thrust of her hips and the ever-subtle spreading of her legs to present herself, Weiss found she had quite the skill in saying ‘pin me down and fuck me like an animal’, too.

She felt like she was nearly on  _ fire _ . Her heart jumped when she heard the quiet  _ beep-beep _ of the door’s scroll reader. Should she just...stay like this? If her intention was to seduce her friend, was this not the most efficient method of laying out her intentions? Presenting herself and simply asking for it?

Tact won out in the end, and Weiss jerkely pulled her skirt back down to cover herself as the door swung open.

“Hey Weiss, you alright?” was the first thing out of Yang’s mouth, mock-concern in her eyes, “I used the wrong ‘there’ twice and you never corrected me, I thought you might have had an aneurism or something.” Wiggling her scroll by her head, a cocky smile grew on her lips, “Don’t need to call the infirmary, do I?”

Immediately, Weiss became intimately aware of the cool effect the air of the room had on her exposed wetness, and her throat tightened in nervous, aroused anxiety.  _ Gods above _ she wanted those lips on her. Come on, just a few seconds ago you were bending over and making fuck-me eyes at your reflection, surely you can at least  _ talk _ , “Sorry, I was...distracted at the time.”

Not her most eloquent response, but there it was.

One of Yang’s eyebrows arched up, vague confusion mixed with her amusement, “Distracted? You? I didn’t think our ice queen was capable of it.”

Weiss bristled, heat of her loins momentarily forgotten, “Just because I hold myself to a higher standard than you dolts doesn’t mean I’m not human.” Wait, that was her ‘in’, wasn’t it? She could swing the conversation to a more...sexy topic with that, right? “I still deal with all the things other people deal with.” Too vague, that wasn’t going to do her any good. Mm, her heat was back full-force, though, she felt her thighs rub together, almost-involuntarily.

The way Yang’s eyes snapped down for a second told Weiss that she hadn’t missed the movement. If that had told her how horny Weiss was feeling from her interrupted orgasm, she didn't show it, instead tucking her scroll back in her pocket. After a moment or two of awkward silence, Yang swung her arms back and forth at her side and asked, “Soooo, what did you want us to do together?”

Shit, Yang was on to her. Backpedal, save face, if you ignore your blush maybe it’ll go away, “I have no idea what you’re implying.” No, you  _ dolt _ , you want to have sex with her, why are you steering the conversation away!

Yang made a face like she was about to start laughing, “I’m not  _ implying _ anything, dork. You said you thought of something to do together.”

Oh, she’d forgotten that she’d said that.

Yang crossed her arms under her chest and leaned back against her and Blake’s bunk, another almost-smirk, “Since you said ‘together’, I’d kinda assumed you had something specific in mind.”

Well  _ yes _ , she’d had something  _ very _ specific in mind when she’d sent that message, but now that Yang was here she couldn’t just say it, right? Gods damn it all, how does one go about asking someone else to bed them? She didn’t want to sit here verbally sparring with Yang all night, she wanted to…

Sparring.

“I uhm,” Weiss could already feel the dusting at her cheeks, “I wanted you to teach me ground grapple techniques.” Oh, that was it. If Yang agreed to this, there was no way she’d  _ not _ notice that Weiss was going commando under her skirt, how wet she was. As smart as she was, Yang would know that it was no accident, that Weiss wouldn’t have asked for this without panties on unless she’d  _ wanted _ Yang to find out. Unless Weiss backed out viciously right now, she was very rapidly approaching the point of no return.

Whatever Yang was expecting, that wasn’t it. When Yang was feigning surprise to be funny or to set up a tease, she raised a single eyebrow. When she was presented with something she genuinely didn’t expect, both raised up, and her face had this uncharacteristic openness to it that replaced the sly smirks and the beaming grins. “Oh, uh, sure I guess. Where’d that come from?”

Thinking fast and ignoring how her cunt clenched as she eeked ever closer towards her goal, Weiss thought of an excuse, “During the Mountain Glen mission, the man who beat me did so with a grapple I wasn’t prepared to face. I’d like that to not happen again.” A partial lie. Technically, he had  _ grappled  _ her, though she doubted the act of grabbing an opponent by the face and spiking them into the ground like you’d just scored a game-winning touchdown would be found in any handbooks on martial arts.

Yang seemed to accept the answer, an easy smile on her face as she switched from teasing to supportive, “Oh, yeah then, sure. You wanna get changed and head to the gym? The sparring mats should still be open.”

She may think like a slut sometimes, but Weiss had no plans to explore exhibitionism anytime soon, “I’d...prefer if we stayed here for now. I don’t want this to be a whole event, just a short demonstration, if you don’t mind.”

Seeming to take it at face value, Yang shrugged, “Alright, so what do you want to do then?” She rolled her shoulders, attracting Weiss’s eyes to the thin straps of the tank top she was wearing, and how little they hid the definition of her shoulders.

She was going to be  _ under _ those in a bit, whew. Even the thought had her starting to spool up again.

“I just want to see where I’m at now,” Weiss began, trying to think of the quickest possible way for Yang to pin her without seeming  _ too _ easy. “So I guess just, try to pin me and we can see how long I can avoid it. Maybe tell me how to break out of it?”

“Sure, I can do that I think. Come here.” Yang said, waving Weiss over and moving to the space between the bunk beds. The first step made Weiss intimately aware of just how wet she was, how close this was to being reality. It was all she could do not to tremble in nerves and anticipation.

Yang began instructing as soon as Weiss took her place in front of her. “Okay, the most common grapple you’re gonna see in the field is a normal pinning grapple, so I'm gonna teach you how to establish a closed guard on the ground,” oh, she really was trying to help too, how sweet. It almost made Weiss feel a bit guilty, but she was sure that if Yang accepted her advance, she’d be more than pleased with the outcome. “I won’t get into all the technicalities, ‘cause I’d need a training mat to teach you how to wriggle out of a pin without giving both of us rug burn. Whenever I get ahold of you, I’m gonna push you onto the ground and use my bodyweight to hold you in place,” oh,  _ please,  _ **_please_ ** do, “Just try to hook your legs at about my hips to maintain distance and establish a bit of control over the grapple. I won’t actually try and pound your face in, but block like I was going to. How’s that sound for a start?” She took up a boxer’s stance, and began to bounce lightly on the balls of her feet. It did wonderful things for Yang’s cleavage, Weiss tried - really tried - to not be too obvious in her appreciation.

She took a deep, steadying breath and copied Yang’s stance as best she could. “Seems simple enough. Don’t hold back.”

Yang grinned her ‘I love you but am totally about to thrash you’ grin, and asked, “Alright then, ready?

A tremble ran through her. This was it. The last chance she had to back out. Once she gave the go ahead, Yang wouldn’t stop until she had won. At some point between this point and that one, Yang would figure out just how soaking wet Weiss was for her, would know that Weiss deliberately put herself in a situation where Yang would find that out. She’d know just how filthy Weiss was, just how much Weiss wanted her. If Yang wasn’t conducive to the idea, it could destroy their friendship, add an awkwardness and mistrust they may never be able to repair…

...on the other hand, though, Weiss had a very real chance of getting to feel Yang’s cock piercing her. Get to see one of her dreams become a reality.

It was no question really. As much as she valued her relationships with her team, she was so.  _ Fucking.  _ **_Hot_ ** for Yang, she couldn’t think straight. She was aware enough of the risks for them to make her tremble in anxiety and fear, but the saccharine red heat pooling in her womanhood and the slick running down her thighs was oh-so much more  _ pressing _ . She wanted this, wanted it so fucking  _ bad _ .

“Ready.” 

If a gun had been fired in the room, it would have been less startling than the sudden sight of Yang rushing her. Powerful, gorgeously long legs kicked off and sent Yang flying at Weiss, a mad grin on her lips.

Weiss prepared to put up a fight, if only for propriety’s sake. She needn’t have bothered, really. She didn’t have any formal hand-to-hand training aside from the rudimentary, while Yang could probably fight her way to the top of Vale’s MMA charts without breaking a sweat. Weiss didn’t know what to expect from Yang. Maybe she would feint a few punches first, knock her fists against Weiss’s guard to disorient her before grappling her to the ground? Maybe she would go for Weiss’s arms directly, try and use them as leverage to pull the Schnee onto the carpet? Whatever she had expected, what Yang actually did was both surprisingly simple and remarkably effective.

She just,  _ trucked _ Weiss.

Yang ducked her head and caught Weiss around the torso with her arms, lifting the smaller woman off of her feet. For a half-second, Weiss was completely weightless in the air before Yang drug her back down towards the ground. Adrenaline and fear mixed with the already heady cocktail of arousal in Weiss’ system as she sped towards the ground, wondering for a moment if maybe it would have been smart to pull up her aura first. Thankfully, Yang, showing the characteristic tact everyone seemed to think was uncharacteristic of her, braked just before hitting the ground. The impact still knocked a bit of air out of Weiss’s lungs (and sent a scandalous thrill to her core as she wondered if maybe she liked being manhandled even more than she thought she did), but wasn’t particularly painful.

And Brothers was it a glorious feeling. Yang released her grip on Weiss’s torso in favor of boxing in Weiss’s head with her hands, and even though Yang kept all of her weight from actually being on Weiss, there was no hiding from it. Weiss was  _ under _ Yang. Pinned beneath her. The smile on Yang’s face was playful and lighthearted, but the feeling of Yang’s body heat so close, the smell of her skin and the sight of her hair cascading around the two of them was overwhelming. Yang’s top had ridden up with the maneuver, leaving her midriff and all  _ eight _ of her gorgeous abs exposed. In that moment, the only thing that existed on the world of Remnant to Weiss Schnee was Yang Xiao Long and her own, molten arousal.

Following Yang oh-so earnest instructions, Weiss raised her legs so that her thighs were braced around Yang’s hips. It caused Weiss’s skirt to fall back in the way she had so often dreamed it would while down to the base of her dildo. This was it. She was pinned to the ground beneath her friend who, up until now had seen Weiss as nothing but a prim and proper heiress. She reveled in that last moment before Yang knew just what depraved things lurked in the back of Weiss’s mind, in the last second before Yang knew just how much of a  _ slut _ Weiss was, deep down. Here she was, alone and beneath a person who wasn’t assigned to her by her father, was far below her social class, who by rights should have never have even gotten the  _ privilege _ to know a Schnee, who Weiss wasn’t even  _ in a relationship with _ . And Weiss had pulled up her skirt, presented her wet, warm,  _ welcoming _ self, and was about to beg to be fucked. There was nothing separating Yang’s flesh from Weiss’s most private area save for a few inches and a layer of arousal.

“Okay, so just maintain pressure with your thighs and you should be able to keep me at a distanc-'' Yang's voice cut off with a choke.

As, in that instant, Weiss had indeed tightened her thighs, but not to press Yang away, but rather to draw her  _ in _ . And it just so happened that the movement planted Yang’s midriff right flush against the slick heat at the juncture of Weiss’s thighs.

Yang’s purple eyes blew wide with shock and no small amount of worry at the sudden sensation of heat and moisture against her skin. Glancing down, her jaw briefly held open as she processed the sight between their bodies. Suddenly, jerkily, Yang tried to pull back, apologies on her lips, “Oh  _ shit _ , I’m so sorry Weiss, I didn’t mean….to…”

She couldn’t pull back.

Of course she couldn’t, Weiss had locked her legs around Yang’s hips. 

Several things seemed to process behind those bright purple eyes as Weiss watched, one part eager to two parts anxious to seven parts  _ horny _ . Yang made the realization Weiss trusted her to make, that no  _ way _ would Weiss ask Yang to teach her grappling while commando unless she’d planned on Yang finding out. Shortly thereafter, she grasped that, yes, Weiss was indeed holding her in place against her womanhood. After that, she realized that Weiss was more wet and giving off more heat than Yang was sure a person of her size should be physically able to. All these facts compiled together to form a shocking, unthinkable truth.

Weiss wanted that. Wanted the revelation of how  _ wet _ her pussy was to be shocking. She wanted the notion of Weiss Schnee contriving a situation in which she was presenting herself sexually to one of her teammates she’d shared no former romantic engagements with to be unthinkable. She  _ needed _ the knowledge of just how much of a  _ whore _ she was capable of being to taste as sweet as forbidden fruit on her lips.

Because she’d done it now. Even if she hadn’t said it aloud, she’d just very clearly propositioned Yang. Asked her teammate to fuck her. That dream, that fantasy that was always  _ only just a fantasy _ , was now made  **_reality_ ** **.**

And when shocked purple eyes finally snapped up to meet Weiss’s blues, Yang’s head crooked sideways like a confused puppy, silently asking the impossible.

Moment of truth, Weiss.

Weiss’s response was to chew her lip and make those very same fuck-me eyes she’d practiced in the mirror earlier, while rolling her hips to  _ grind _ her pussy over the burning flesh of Yang’s abs.

Brothers, it was almost enough to make her clench and cream herself  _ right then _ .

The positively  _ filthy _ moan she let out was really just the cherry on top.

For a scary second, Yang was frozen, and Weiss feared she’d garnered a negative reaction. But then, explosively, Yang was all over her. A strong hand found Weiss’s hips, pulling Weiss tightly against her core. Yang canted her hips forward to flex her abs and give Weiss a better surface to grind against as her ravenous lips pressed against Weiss’s. 

Weiss couldn’t help the mewl she let out, crossing her ankles over each other and dry humping against the clenching muscles she had so effectively made slick. Yang was relentless, too. The hand that wasn’t pulling Weiss’s hips to her weaved through silver strands of hair to cup the back of Weiss’s head and more effectively take Weiss’s lips. It took her just a second to press past the Schnee’s defenses (that Weiss was oh-so-happy to lower) and finally push her tongue into the hidden sanctum of Weiss’s mouth.

It was a feeling Weiss had never even  _ considered _ before, another person’s tongue in her mouth. It was intoxicating, feeling that hot little thing playing against hers, feeling their heated breath intermingling and Weiss was pressed even harder into the floor.

And her  _ cunt _ , Brothers, it was like nothing else. Weiss’s arms had thrown themselves around Yang’s neck at some point and were in no hurry to let go as it gave her a good anchor by which to keep rutting against Yang’s stomach. Gods above, Weiss had complained before that Yang devoted too much valuable time to building a muscle group that didn’t even help much in combat when she could have spent her time studying, but she was so  _ happy _ Yang had ignored her. Everywhere their skin met felt like molten steel, and as Yang’s arousal rose to meet Weiss’s, her theory that Yang’s skin would burn hotter than hers was proved true.

As tempting and gloriously delicious the idea of cumming on Yang’s abs  _ from _ Yang’s abs and nothing else was, Weiss had a dream to fulfill. Pressing one of her hands between their bodies, Weiss snaked down until she could press her hand against Yang’s thigh, feeling something that was even hotter than the rest of her there, straining against her boyshorts. 

It was so  _ hard _ .

As soon as Weiss began to rub against the dick through Yang’s shorts, Yang grunted and drew back from Weiss’s mouth. Weiss immediately missed her, but before she could whine about it, Yang panted, “I saw you looking, you know. In the locker room, or around the dorm. I thought you were grossed out.”

“ _ Unf _ .” Weiss replied, eloquently, feeling the shaft throb even through the material, “Quite the, uh, opposite. If I were disgusted by it, I wouldn’t have wanted to suck on it so badly.” It was stunningly embarrassing to admit, but she found that like this she had a surprisingly high tolerance for embarrassment. 

Yang seemed to not have expected such a lewd response, responding with a remarkably unsubtle jerk of her hips, as if trying to fuck Weiss’s hand through her spats. Ooh, she wasn’t expecting Yang to be so... _ eager _ . It pulled her lips up into a sly sort of smile, she wanted Yang to do it again. Giving her cock a gratuitous but gentle squeeze, Weiss elaborated between hot puffs of air, “I could hardly...contain myself, really. I’ve wanted to touch it ever since I saw it.”

Ah, there it was, another jerk of her powerful hips. Yang’s hand left the back of Weiss’s head in favor of pressing into the ground to steady herself. Her cheeks blushed an adorable shade of pink at the admission, “Oh, uh...I don’t know if I should say thanks or not.”

Weiss may have been more embarrassed under normal circumstances. With how... _ responsive _ Yang was being though, a heady lust clouded her mind, shooed away any worries over decency or manners. She missed Yang’s touch, so shifted her head to press her cheek against Yang’s forearm, “Just telling the truth.” Even the skin of her arm seemed hot almost to scalding.

Yang sucked in a deep breath when Weiss trailed her hand upwards. Peering down between their bodies, Weiss splayed her hand across the hard muscles. Oh, it was as good as she’d imagined. So firm, so  _ alive _ with every twitch and clench as Yang struggled not to move through Weiss’s ministrations. “All of this, too,” Weiss whispered, enraptured at the texture and firmness. The fact that she was spreading her glistening fluid around was an unintended but not unwelcome side effect.

She scraped her eyes up Yang’s abs again (and this time, her fingers too), before they caught on the next tantalizing piece of blonde Weiss had been dreaming about touching. “And…” she began, breathing the word out as a hot breath, “ _ definitely _ these too.” Her hand slipped under the hem of Yang’s tank and under her bra. They were so  _ soft _ , plush like one of Ruby’s stuffed animals. Weiss could feel the point of Yang’s nipple against her palm, and the moan Yang let out as she flicked her finger over it only whetted her appetite for more.

“Gah, Weiss…” Yang gasped, pressing her chest into the smaller girl’s touch, “I didn’t know you could be so…” she trailed off, seeming to second guess what she was about to say.

Slutty? Easy? Weiss humped her hips against Yang again, legs tightening around her powerful waist and staining Yang’s spats and belt. Whorish? So many deliciously sinful words ran through Weiss’s head, degrading little things. “That I could be so what, Yang?” she moaned, getting a particularly  _ electrifying  _ grind as she managed to contact her clit with Yang’s feverish skin.

The sound seemed to short circuit something in Yang’s head. Weiss watched her pupils dilate, a ravenous hunger showing through for just a second before Yang hid it. 

Damnit, don’t hide it from me, Weiss thought. Do it, eat me, I know you want to. I want it to. So fucking bad.

“...forward, I guess,” Yang said to Weiss’s mild disappointment, but that was fine for now. Weiss had more pressing concerns. This was good, it was  _ so _ good, but it wasn’t  _ enough _ . She could see the precipice Yang was on, how much she hungered for the girl she had pinned beneath her. Just to make sure, Weiss rolled her hips but this time didn’t grind. Instead, she pressed her cunt directly on Yang’s abs and  _ held it there _ . Making sure Yang felt the heat coming off of her, felt the wetness fresh and new. Let go, Weiss’s body seemed to scream. Can’t you see how willing? How wanting? 

It did it, finally made Yang snap, if only partially. The first large crack, fracture, appeared. Purple eyes blew wide as lust sank in. Roughly, Yang jerked Weiss’s shoulders down, aligning their hips so that the difference in height was one again reestablished on the ground. To her frustration, the movement made her legs slip off from around Yang’s hips, but that was fine too. It let her spread her legs more, make sure Yang had all the easy access to Weiss she needed. And Weiss did, and was so happy to. The rough pull down had caused her nightdress to ride up even more, letting her bare ass make contact with the carpet. The feeling of Yang’s hands, once again back on her body roughly tugging her into position forced a visceral sort of mewl from her lips, as if some animal deep in her heart could see Yang as a worthy mate. Strong enough to pin Weiss down and  _ take her _ properly. 

Weiss’s hands were calloused, slightly. Years of training with Myrtensater left no other option, but Weiss diligently moisturized and took care of her skin. Yang’s combat style was much rougher on her hands. Her upkeep of her body was impeccable, of course. The piles of shampoo and lotion bottles in the bathroom was a testament to that, but the Xiao Longs were not a rich family, and the high-quality creams and treatments were beyond Taiyang’s paycheck.

This ment Yang’s hands were not soft, but they were not rough either. Like so much about her, Yang's body was a perfect equilibrium,  _ just right _ for Weiss. One rough hand rubbed down Weiss’s exposed side, the hand seeming to leave a trail of fire and sparks on Weiss’s skin as the fingers dug in. Leaving dark pink lines on the otherwise porcelain skin. Once they arrived at their destination, Weiss felt starving fingers slide under her, hungrily cupping the tight flesh of her ass. Her hands were big, too, or perhaps Weiss was just small. Weiss wondered how it would feel to sit in her lap, to ride those fingers. A note for later. 

Weiss was quite proud of her ass. She couldn’t change her lot in life, couldn’t turn back the clock and un-scar her eye, or decide to be born to a different family. Her breasts had always been...underwhelming to her. It wasn’t something she was really insecure about, but it was something she tended to make note of while looking in the mirror. She couldn’t change her genes, and she couldn’t do much to increase her cup size beyond that. Her ass, though? That didn’t come from genes, or money, or luck. That came from hard work. Of exercise and squats and lunges. She was  _ proud _ of her ass.

“Brothers, I’ve wanted to grab this since initiation,” Yang grunted, tanking a moment to squeeze the cheek, to feel it depress beneath her palm and fingers. 

Weiss preened a bit, it was always nice to be appreciated, “Well, in that case feel free to. Gods, if you’ll treat me this well, you can touch in whenever you want.”

Yang’s brain seemed to short circuit again, before the shocked expression was replaced by a slow, building grin. “ _ Whenever _ I want?” she followed the question with a gratuitous grope. If there was any conflict in Weiss’s mind over the subject, that had resolved it instantly.

“Oh,  _ yes _ ,” she purred, “Please.” She let something a little ambitious, a little challenging enter her voice then, hoping desperately that Yang would rise to the challenge and put her in her place, “but we both know you can do better than just  _ touching _ it, Xiao Long.”

For a second, Yang seemed taken aback, and Weiss worried she’d damaged the dynamic they’d had going, that she’d let Weiss take the dominant role from her, kind as she was. But Weiss didn’t  _ want _ to be dominant here, she was dominant  _ everywhere _ in her life. Just once she wanted someone to just  _ use _ her.

Luckily, after a second of processing, the lusty spark relit in Yang’s eyes and her hand left Weiss’s ass. She was about to whine her complaint when Yang whispered, “You asked for it, Schnee,” and her hand whipped back into its handfull-grasp of the asscheek.

_ Slap _

“ **_Oh!_ ** ” Weiss yelped, the sudden sting sending a rush of blood right to her cunt. The pain gave way to a moan almost instantly. 

“Mmm,” Yang hummed, biting her lip with a clearly pleased look on her face.

The look was enough to send a jolt to Weiss’s muscles, and she humped forward against her friend, only for a shocked and delighted gasp to burst from her lips. She could  _ feel it _ . Gods above she could  _ feel _ it.

Yang’s cock was straining against the material of her shorts, pulsing with every lionlike heartbeat. Weiss could feel the heat it was giving off, several degrees hotter than any other part of Yang’s skin. She could feel the outline of it, hidden away from her but pressed  _ right there _ . So tightly was it, against her pussy, that Weiss could feel it just begin to spread her lips apart. Feel how much it wanted to plunge into that wet heat that was so close to it, how much it wanted to fill her and take from her the pleasure it so ravenously craved.

She could feel Yang’s cock right against her opening, and it was all she ever wanted. 

Yang could feel it too, as she’d fallen silent. Then, a short, jerky, but nonetheless  _ there _ thrust of Yang’s hips. It was all Weiss needed to know that Yang wanted to destroy her, wanted to keep her pinned there so she couldn’t escape and bury herself inside of her.

Like lightning, Weiss’s hands flew down. Pressing between their bodies, Weiss didn’t even bother undoing the half-skirt belt thing Yang always wore. Her fingers found their way under the hem of Yang’s boyshorts, hooked under Yang’s underwear, and took a moment to relish in the feeling of Yang’s lower abs clenching at her touch.

Before she jerked the frustrating piece of clothing down, finally,  _ finally  _ freeing Yang’s length.

It was  _ beautiful _ . It had not even tasted open air for a second, pleasured breath wasn’t but a half-inch past Yang’s lips, and both of Weiss’s hands were on it. It was so much better than she’d expected, the feeling of holding it. It was so  _ warm _ against her palm, and looked so massive when wrapped in her dainty fingers, it’s girth preventing her fingers from overlapping much. Brothers, she tightened her grip and there was almost no give. Yang was so fucking  _ hard _ for her, it was intoxicating. With her right hand, Weiss rubbed up and down the shaft in the method that came naturally. Her left dipped lower, gently cupping the tight balls that hung beneath.

They were so tight for her, so full. 

Yang hissed, “Oh, damn, Weiss. You could have warned me a little!”

Weiss barely registered the complaint, eyes tearing away from her newest favorite part of life to look at the blatant pleasure written across Yang’s face. The lust burning in her loins and setting her skin alight fogged her mind, and any attempt at witty banter was gone. She pressed the hot cock against the flesh of her stomach, measuring. Gods, that was about to be  _ that far _ inside of her? Would she even survive? She didn’t care, she wanted it anyway. “Put it in me,” she whispered.

Yang blew out a breath, her eyes flicking around the room, “Uh, you want to move to a bed? You might get rug burn down there.”

Good, let her. She wanted to bear the signs of a hard, rough fucking for days. Wanted to feel the bruises Yang’s fingers would leave on her hips and the rawness of where her skin met carpet every time she dressed herself, every time she laid down for sleep. She wanted to feel it until her flesh healed and her body recovered. Then, she wanted it  _ again _ .

“No,” She said, but her voice sounded too thick. She swallowed and tried again, “Here is...good enough.” Not her most eloquent of responses, but right now  _ eloquence _ was so far down her list of priorities she’d need earth-moving equipment to find it.

Eloquence was one of the many things that had been drilled into her. Always, she must be refined, must be eloquent and noble. It was expected and demanded of her that she be the very picture of formality, that she hold herself to a higher standard than the average person. She was not to curse, or shout, or speak any form of foul or vulgar language. It was also expected of her to abstain, that she would give her virginity to the man or woman she wed, arranged by her parents and the Company. But here she was, about to give her virginity to a woman she’d only known for a few short months, who’d not even taken her out for dinner let alone earned a place in Weiss’s bed. Here she was, Weiss Schnee, Heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, with her legs spread in the air and her skirts up around her midriff, begging for the cock she held in her hands to finally plunge into her womanhood and take her.

It was only fitting that it be done on the dirty carpet of a dorm room, only fitting that neither of them had even mentioned the idea of using a condom. It was only fitting that when Yang met Weiss’s eyes again, a whine built in the back of Weiss’s throat. Only fitting that Weiss herself spread her legs wider, felt Yang tug her cock from Weiss’s grip. Only right that Weiss had to _physically_ _restrain_ herself when she felt that burning, bulbous cockhead teasing the petals of her pussy apart from impaling herself on the shaft. Only right that after years of dreaming of it in her bedroom back home, that the _second_ she was given an ounce of freedom, she found herself on her back begging for dick. 

Her lips caressed the words, her tongue weaving them, and her throat pushing them out with raunchy, dirty moan, “Just  _ fuck me already _ , Yang.”

Yang’s pupils dialated to the point they were almost black. She lunged down, took Weiss’s Weiss’s lips with such force that Weiss feared she’d bruise, and  **obliged** . 

With a powerful clenching of the glutes, Yang  _ buried _ herself into Weiss’s willing wetness.

A moan tore itself from Weiss’s throat as, after years and years of dreaming and begging and waiting, she was finally pressed down into the floor and  _ dicked _ .

It was better than she ever could have dreamed. The stretch, the burning heat of Yang’s body contained within Weiss’s own. The way she could feel her muscles trying in vain to clamp down to their usual shape but were forced to instead mould to Yang’s cock. Weiss sang soprano right into Yang’s mouth, thanking her, begging her to keep going, to take her, to  _ fuck _ her. Anything, everything, she wanted Yang to  _ annihilate _ her.

Yang was on the same track, Weiss could tell from the way her abs clenched and shuddered against Weiss’s own stomach. Trembling, as if Yang was barely restraining herself from her rut. Weiss found she wasn’t really contributing to their kiss, so it was no real loss when Yang pulled back just a hair so her heavy, hot breath could puff across Weiss’s face. Yang moaned, then, tight and high and animal in the back of her throat. Brothers, that noise, it send a shiver racing down her spine, every muscle rolling-

Oh, gods, the thrill ran right to her cunt. She clenched once, and for a second could feel just how fucking  _ hard _ Yang was inside of her all the clearer.

“Oh,  _ shit, _ ” Yang hissed, abs clenching on top of Weiss again, another phantom-thrust that Yang didn’t let herself do. “Nng, you...okay, Weiss?”

Oh, how  _ sweet _ , Yang was worried about her. Had Weiss been in a calmer mindset she might have felt warmed by the concern in her friend’s voice. She wasn’t calm though, no. She was burning, every inch of her flesh was hot and slick with sweat, feverish and needy. Yang could  _ tell _ that Weiss was okay, she could surely feel how slick and wet her cunt was, feel the way Weiss’s arms clung to her shoulders. She knew so _ why wasn’t she fucking her yet _ .

“Oooh, yes,” Weiss hissed instead, almost without meaning to, “I’m more okay than I’ve been in  _ years _ ,” the last word came out as a moan. The filthy sound felt good, finally,  _ finally _ making the transition from her mind to reality. Yang was still holding so frustratingly  _ still _ though. Why? Can’t she tell how much Weiss wants her? How open she is for her? How wide her legs are spread? Maybe not, so Weiss rolled her hips up, grinding against her friend, her partner’s sister.

Weiss had meant for it to entice Yang, to convince her to actually start  _ pounding _ her. She hadn’t anticipated….hadn’t realized how  _ good _ it would feel. To feel a cock, so hot and stiff inside of her resist the motion, press against her deep inside and grind against her walls, lighting her nerves alight. She gnawed on her lip, staring imploringly into her friend’s barely-hanging-on purple eyes. In response, a breath like the fire of Yang’s namesake burned across Weiss’s cheeks, a hint of a moan, and a question, “Oh, Gods, Ice Queen, you okay for me to move?”

Yang's hands trembled with restrained strength, muscles tight as the cabling of a suspension bridge. Weiss could feel how her fingers worried against the soft flesh of her ass, cupping her and supporting her hips, but curling in just enough, clawing into Weiss’s flesh just hard enough to betray what she wanted, deep down.

Yang wanted to do to Weiss what Weiss wanted her to do to Weiss. But she didn’t want Weiss to know it. Mind fogged by lust and unfamiliarity, Yang was falling back on her ‘older sister’ mask, even here. Weiss had forgotten, Yang wore a mask just like she did. Playing the concerned partner out of fear that Weiss would doubt that Yang really cared for her.

That wasn't even in question. Weiss knew Yang cared for her. Knew she’d never hurt her. But Weiss wanted Yang to hurt her now, just a little bit. Wanted Yang to take from her, to wring her out for every last drop of pleasure Yang could take from her. Yang wanted that too, wanted to feel the smaller girl trapped underneath her, wanted to hold her struggling, orgasming body in place while she felt it shudder around her cock. That scared Yang, after all, Weiss was so propper and stuffy. Surely if she knew what visceral, dirty things she felt, Weiss would turn away from her.

Weiss needed to dissuade that notion, fast. Yang needed to know without a shadow of a doubt just how much Weiss wanted to see Yang take her visciously, fucking and rutting into her and pinning her down and  _ filling _ her. Firstly, Weiss needed Yang to know that Weiss could match every sinful thought Yang was having beat for beat. Secondly, Weiss needed to  _ tear _ away Yang’s mask, so that Yang could allow herself to be just as free as Weiss felt pinned to the carpet and full of dick.

Two birds, one stone.

Weiss weaved her hand into Yang’s hair, pulling her down so that her lips brushed lightly along Yang’s ear, as she didn’t trust herself to say what needed to be said if she could see Yang’s face. Each word came with a hot breath and caused a fresh shudder to run through Yang’s body. Pressed this close, so close their breasts were moulding together through their clothes and all of Yang was so  _ distractingly _ deep inside of her, Weiss felt every twitch and shudder, let it spur her on and fuel the lust dripping from her lips, “Xiao Long, a month ago I was licking my lips watching you do weights. A week ago, I was laying in bed imagining how you’d taste if you let me suck you.”

She felt Yang gasp against her throat, felt her breathing stop, felt the tension in her muscles grow just a hair tighter.

Good.

“Thirty minutes ago, I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do about you. Twenty minutes before you walked into the door I was knuckle deep inside myself, thinking of you.”

A whine built in the back of Yang’s throat, a hairline fracture in her facade.

“You interrupted me with that text, I was  _ so close _ ,” she punctuated with a needy roll of her hips, and had to pause to relish in the pleasure pooling wetly between her thighs. An idea occurred to her, and she reached down, one hand snaking between their bodies, already slick with sweat and heady with the scent of sex, to wrap two delicate fingers around Yang’s base, and stroke her even as most of her was inside of Weiss’s pussy, slowly drawing Yang out, centimeter by centimeter.

“Shit, Schnee,” Yang hissed, throat tight.

“Fifteen minutes before you came in, I pulled my fingers out of myself to invite you back. Ten minutes, and I was trying to decide what I should wear that would convince you to  _ bed _ me.”

She gasped, hips thrusting just a millimeter.

“Five minutes, I decided that I didn’t need any panties,” her tongue wrapped around the words with the skill of a practiced courtesan, “because all they would do is cover me up, and wanted to be nice and  _ open _ for you.”

Ooh, the moan that slipped from Yang lips somehow made Weiss want it even  _ more _ , she didn’t think it was possible.

“A minute, and I was looking at myself in the mirror and making sure I was nice and pretty for you.”

Her hand was actively kneading Weiss’s ass now, fingers digging in almost to the point of bruising.

“ _ Ten seconds _ , as you were right outside unlocking the door, and I was  _ bent over _ and  _ presenting _ myself at the mirror, making sure that no matter what you would have a nice, warm hole to fuck.”

“W-Weiss, you’re making me…”

Moment of truth.

“Xiao Long, if I wanted  _ gentle _ , if I wanted you to  _ care _ about me, I would have asked you to dinner, showered you with gifts and had flower petals on the freshly-laundered sheets of our bed for our first time.” With a rough shove, Weiss made distance. Rich, delicious red was bleeding into gentle lilac, and Weiss’s gaze sought to convey every bit of lust and heat she was feeling, “I would  _ not _ have laid on the floor and spread my legs like a backalley whore,  _ Yang _ .” With that, Weiss balled her hand into a fist, curling her fingers around bundles of soft golden hair, and  _ yanked _ . “I don’t  _ want _ gentle, I want you grab me, shake me, pin me down, and act like the huntress you are and fuck me like  _ an animal!  _ Give me  **_everything_ ** _ you’ve got. _ ”

In an instant, Yang’s eyes turned the color of the heat in Weiss’s cunt. Anger and lust mixed nakedly on Yang’s face like forbidden lovers coming together and breathlessly screwing.  _ Finally _ , those muscles coiled, drawing back and leaving Weiss so distressingly empty for a half-second.

The first thrust hit Weiss like a hammerblow. One second, she was empty, the next she was  _ full _ . 

Any semblance of softness was gone now. Every bit of Yang was in the perfect physical condition, and she fucked Weiss tirelessly. There was little technique or rhythm on display, Yang’s sexual inexperience showing. Instinct and anger drive her, and that only made Weiss burn hotter. She rutted up into every thrust, wild and carefree. The hand on Weiss’s ass moved, pivoting so that Yang’s fingers dug into the flesh, but her thumb tucked into the groove of Weiss’s hip, holding Weiss still bodily as she got too excited to do it herself. Brothers it made her feel so  _ small _ .

Yang’s hand was all over Weiss now. Moving from her shoulder to pin her to her breasts to roughly squeeze and knead her, to the small of her back to help her other hand hold the squealing Schnee still so she could keep burying herself inside of her. 

Weiss’s hands were busy too, working their way under the back of Yang’s tank top to drag her fingernails down molten flesh. She felt Yang’s body temperature jump as her semblance activated, her cock burning even hotter as it tore Weiss asunder again and again. Weiss  _ loved it _ . She wasn’t coherent enough to  _ tell  _ Yang that, of course, but she made her appreciation known all the same.

She sang her pleasure, uncaring of how many walls her voice carried through, how many of her classmates recognized her voice. She didn’t care who heard. She didn’t care that anyone in the hallway who walked by could hear her, didn’t care that Ruby and Blake could come home at any point. Lewd and wanton, Weiss raised her legs up into the air, spread wide open like the slut she was so happy to be. She sung and sung her ballad of lust and sex, profanity and praise and animal moans and mewls mixing together as Yang laboured over her.

Gods, she was so strong. Every exited hump of Weiss’s hips was locked down by Yang’s grip, every thrust rattled her down to her bones and forced air from her chest. Hand clawing down Yang’s muscular back and feet high up in the air where they belonged, Weiss begged, “Oh _oh,_ **bite** me!”

Yang huffed, effort and groans thick in her voice, a growl barely-heard over the sound of flesh meeting slick, wet flesh, “Shut  _ up! _ ” Yang’s animal spoke, the anger and the saveragery she saved for battle. The side of her personality that she kept tucked away in a holster for when she needed it. Now brought to bear and  _ taking _ Weiss. Teeth sunk into Weiss’s neck, too-high up to be covered easily with a collar. She wasn’t sure if Yang did that on purpose to claim ownership (though the thought wet her thighs even  _ more _ ), or if she’d simply not been thinking straight, but it tore a visceral whine from Weiss’s throat as her long delayed orgasm came roaring to bear.

Spreading her legs wider and raising her chin, making  _ sure _ that Yang had all the easy access to her body as she wanted, Weiss’s voice rose an octave and she creamed herself around her friend’s dick. Convulging, Weiss’s clutched desperately at the sweat slicked skin. Yang had torn off her tank top at some point, Weiss hadn’t noticed.

As her orgasm died down, Yang slowed, though Weiss could tell it was taking all her willpower to do it. No, no, please, don’t stop. Don’t care about me, just take. She mattered  _ all the time _ , just for once she didn’t want to matter.

Heavy, panting breath like that of a Beowolf, “Are you done? Should I-”

No, none of that.

Voice raspy and thick with lust, “A-again...Please, Brothers, just do me again already!” To punctuate her need, Weiss rolled her hips, and corrected her posture. Her legs had dropped to the floor at some point during her orgasm, that just wasn’t propper.

No, Weiss had decided. Of all her etiquette training and classical learning,  _ this _ was proper posture for her. There was no position that was more right for her than on her back with her legs in the air, beneath somone who would fuck her so  _ well _ .

Gods damn it all, she wanted Yang to keep fucking her.

Thankfully, this time Yang didn’t need any further convincing. She took advantage of having an easy teammate, and plunged back into that velvet heat.

Weiss was back up to pace soon enough, tears watering her eyes, as her tender cunt was pounded just as hard as it had been earlier. Gods above it was almost  _ too _ good, but she'd rather die than have this stop. 

Yang felt so much bigger inside her than she had looked. Yang panted harshly in Weiss’s ear, “Oh, your so  _ good _ , fuck.”

Weiss whined, the praise hitting her in a way she didn’t expect. “Do you like it?”

The hand holding her hips in place tightened, and somehow and gloriously Yang fucked her  _ even harder _ , “So, so much. It’s the best thing i’ve ever felt.”

Please yes, tell me. Tell me how soft my cunt is, how wet. Tell me how much you want it around you, how much you want to fuck it. Weiss sang, fresh and new, “It’s yours! Fuck, if you treat me like this every time, you can do me whenever you want!”

“Ooooh,” Yang groaned, her hips stuttering in their rhythm as Weiss struck a chord, “You- you mean that?”

“Yes!” Weiss cried, both in confirmation and because Yang just drug her cock across her g-spot. “You don’t even have to ask!” she followed, burning too hot to care what she was saying, but meaning it  _ so much _ , as if it was coming from the bottom of her heart. The fire from her cunt only gave her the fuel to finally say it out loud, so she hissed, “We don’t even have to be  _ alone! _ ”

Yang snorted between grunts and moans, “You sure? You’re not really quiet.”

She knew it, oh by the gods she knew it and was  _ proud _ . “I knowwww!” she sang, “I don’t care who knows! Let them listen!”

Yang stuttered, slowed, before suddenly and urgently picking up speed. Her thrust became erratic as she grunted “I’m gonna, oh Weiss, shit.”

She was throbbing in her, this is what Weiss had always wanted her whole life. Every day in the Manor, laying in bed riding her dildo, imagining it was some minimum-wage labourer fucking her raw. This is what Weiss wanted to see in Yang, that moment where she was so desperate, so vicious and animalistic rutting away at Weiss’s poor pussy that, in some bizzare alternate universe, if Weiss asked her to stop she very much doubted Yang would have.

When Weiss came, her voice went high, but as Yang’s hands pawed at Weiss and her hips rutted, Yang’s  _ dropped _ an octave, “Oh, I wanna cum in you, Weiss. I want to really bad.”

Yes,  _ yes _ ,  **_yes._ ** “Xiao Long, don’t you  _ dare _ finish anywhere else!” Weiss whined, high in her throat, rutting back. She wanted to cum too, wanted to share it, but she was too far away. She wouldn’t make it, but that was fine.

She was going to love this anyway.

Desperate, animal thrusts stuttered to a stop with a single,  _ hard _ thrust. Yang was buried in Weiss’s womanhood all the way down to her balls as her abs clenched and, finally,  _ finally _ , Weiss felt someone pressing her into the dirt and cumming inside of her.

Wet heat came in thick bursts as a filthy, low moan slipped luridly past her lips. Each rope was accompanied by a short thrust, as if Yang was trying to fit even  _ more _ of herself inside of Weiss. She was already so  _ full _ though. Every muscle in Weiss went rigid. Her feet hung in the air, her thighs forced apart by Yang’s wide, wide hips as they locked together.

Finally, the tension dropped from Yang. With a harsh pant, the blonde’s shoulders sagged as she rested. Weiss wiped at the slick sweat on her forehead, letting her legs come so her feet could rest flat on the floor. Yang stayed buried inside of her, the warmth grounding Weiss and reminding her that she had been tantalizingly close to an orgasm. She tried her best to ignore it, not wanting Yang to think for even a  _ second _ that she hadn’t fucked Weiss good enough. 

But Twin Gods, Yang was so warm in her. Her cum was practically molten, Weiss could feel it painting her, running out of the imperfect seal of Yang’s cock and Weiss’s labia. Weiss couldn’t pull her attention anywhere  _ else _ .

Wait.

A second hand came down to dig possessively into Weiss’s other hip.

“Hey, you said I didn’t have to ask, right?”

Oh by all that was good in this world, Yang was still hard as  _ steel _

And Weiss was getting fucked again.

“Oh! Oh, fuck, Yang, yes!” Weiss cried, so happy to still be full of dick. It was an odd sensation, the thick, viscous semen painting her walls somewhat numbed the feeling of flesh-on-flesh, but it was more than made up for by just how outright goddamn  _ dirty _ it felt.

Greedy, Weiss ran her hand up to clutch at Yang’s hair, relishing the soft curls and quietly hoping the tiny tugs would urge Yang to continue her glorious pace. Her left hand went in the other direction, pressing and groping roughly down Yang’s back, licking her lips at every powerful flex and tremor to finally palm Yang’s ass, as if to urge Yang into every single heaving thrust.

Weiss moaned like a whore, as best she could. Yang pawed at Weiss’s leg frantically for a second before heaving it up onto her bicep. Weiss’s other leg stayed where it was, spread wide on the carpet, and the combined effect made the penetration even more delicious. Gods, she could feel the thick, hot liquid leaking from her cunt and running in rivulets down her thighs. She was desperate and heady, “Fuck me Yang, cum in me again, fill me up,” she cried, voice thick with lust and mind full of pink cotton.

Yang huffed, but obliged, hips pumping like the workings of a jackhammer. Brawler’s strength and clenching abs and glutes meant Weiss would _not_ be walking straight or sitting right tomorrow.

Weiss wished they had class, wished she’d have to worry about other students or teachers noticing.

**She’d just have to get Yang to fuck her again before class, then.**

She gushed at the thought.

“Shit, Weiss,” Yang gasped, a sly, lustful grin on her face.

Shit, she’d said that out loud.

“I meant it!” Weiss cried, feeling her cunt burning hotter, feverish skin burning against Yang’s as Yang’s fingers bruised her hips. “Just fuck me like this, whenever you want! Gods, I can’t  _ wait! _ ”

She was burning so hot, there was no filter. Fantasy-Weiss and Reality-Weiss had become one, and it was the best thing Weiss had ever felt.

At the junction where their bodies met, cum and slick mixed and dirtied their thighs and hips, dripping down from Weiss onto the carpet. Weiss didn’t care, let it stain. Let Ruby and Blake find it. It was only a matter of time before they knew.

Weiss wondered how far this would go. Would she just fuck Yang? Or would more of her fantasies become reality? Maybe it was just the heat of her lust talking, but she could imagine it now. She’d been  _ real _ loud tonight, after all. What if tomorrow, Weiss was all alone in her room and someone came knocking? Asking after whoever had been so happy to spread their legs the previous night? Would Weiss really turn them down?

How long until Ruby and Blake knew, then? Yang knew how Weiss was now, but the other two? How long before they noticed that Weiss had turned their dorm’s entrance into a revolving door? How long before they walked in on the oh-so prim and proper Weiss Schnee in her bed taking it from both ends from two boys down the hall? Or notice her in one of Beacons many alleys with her skirts pulled up and her panties in the dirt, cunt full of dick. How long before they’d notice just how often Weiss went to the ladies room during class, only to come back with smudged lipstick and the smell of another girl’s slick on her breath. How long before so many people knew just how much of a slut she was that she couldn’t so much as walk to class without someone coping a feel? Before her offer that Yang ‘didn’t even need to ask’ extended to  _ everyone _ .

It was almost ambition, she felt.

Weiss wanted everyone to know, to know just how much she loved being on her back. So she sang. She sang and she moaned and she squealed and she mewled as Yang’s cock spread her apart so wide she thought she’d burst and  _ took and took and took _ .

Yang didn’t even ask this time. 

Finally, desperately, Yang  _ pulled _ Weiss tight against her hips, like she was nothing more than a toy, and  _ came in her again _ .

And this time, when Weiss felt the carpet burn her back and her legs forced wide and her cunt filled with her mate's cum, Weiss came too, so hard she saw  _ white _ .

And she sang her voice hoarse in appreciation.

**XXXX**

A few minutes of gasping breath and panting air later, Yang’s arms finally gave out. With a huff, she slumped down, barely managing to brace her arm on the floor to stop from flattening Weiss beneath her. Thankful for the courtesy, Weiss let out a heavy groan, head rocking back to rest on the floor as every drop of tension seemed to leave her body. 

Gently, Yang released Weiss’s leg, letting it drop half-limp to the ground, to which Weiss huffed out a breathy, “Thank you.” 

She heard Yang suck in a harsh breath before saying, “Wow, uh, that was…”

Even if much of the heat had left her blood, Weiss was still in a remarkably honest mood, “Amazing?”

A laugh interrupted greedy lungfulls of air, as if Yang wasn’t expecting that answer, “Oh, uh, yeah, I can’t argue with that...heh…”

“Mmm,” Weiss hummed, appreciating the warmth between her legs, both from the exertion and the two little gifts Yang had given her. She made to stretch, but stopped with a hiss.

Concern covered the exhaustion on Yang’s face, “You alright?”

Weiss grit her teeth, “Back,” she grunted, “Rugburn.”

“Oh,” Yang frowned, the wild thing she’d become all but gone. Half-awkwardly, she jerked a thumb to her left, “do you wanna move to the bed  _ now _ , then,” a bit of sarcasm slipped into her voice, a touch of normal-Yang, as she added “ _ Ice-Queen?” _

Weiss was too exhausted, too satisfied, to properly return the jab. Instead, a hand slapped weakly at Yang’s arm before she responded, “Shut up, Xiao Long. Yes, please.”

“Okay, I’m just gonna…” the larger woman muttered, before groaning and pulling out.

A whine left Weiss’s throat at the sensation. Her tender, overstimulated walls felt every minute movement, and she was struck with the conflicting sensations of simultaneously  _ needing _ Yang to not be in her right now, and  _ hating _ the empty feeling she was leaving behind. She squeezed her eyes closed at the sensation. 

Once Yang slipped free of her, Weiss let out what must’ve been her hundredth groan that night. She wiped the sweat from her face with one of her hands, waiting for Yang to dismount her. After a second of no movement from Yang, Weiss opened her eyes curiously.

Eyes, lilac, were wide and awed, looking down. Tracking her gaze, Weiss realized what Yang was staring at. Weiss’s feet were flat on the ground and on either side of Yang’s calves, meaning her thighs were spread quite wide. The... _ enthusiasm _ they had shown had caused Yang’s first load to spater across Weiss’s thighs and stomach, painting her hot, pink skin in milky white strands of cum. Yang’s second still leaked thickly from between Weiss’s petals, rich and virile.

“...Woah,” Yang whispered, as if shocked that she had done it.

“I…”  _ concur _ had been what Weiss was about to say, but the word felt stuffy even to her, “...yeah.”

After a few seconds of watching Weiss leak on the carpet, Yang pulled herself to her feet, groaning with her sore muscles. Poor thing, she’d done all that work for Weiss, and had done so good.

Weiss wanted to reward her.

Hm…

“I, uhm,” Weiss began, “I’m gonna need some help.”

Yang snorted, stooping down to help her friend to her feet, “That bad, huh?”

Weiss didn’t take the bait, though. Holding onto Yang’s hand as she staggered towards her bed, she leaned in so that Yang could feel her body against her own and clarified with a purr, “That  _ good _ , yes.”

Yang seemed to falter for a second, as if the notion she was good in bed (or on carpet, whatever) was completely alien to her. Steadfast, though, she helped Weiss over to her bed, a bit of an awkward air about her. Weiss didn’t mind though, Yang was obviously as new to this as Weiss and didn’t have Weiss’s years of hypothetical experience under her belt. Classical Psychology, which Weiss had taken in her private schooling in Atlas, said that one of the best ways to ensure the repetition of a behavior was through positive reinforcement. Through  _ giving _ someone something they wanted or enjoyed as a reward for good behavior.

And this was a behavior Weiss  _ absolutely _ wanted to reinforce.

Weary of her wobbly knees, Weiss let Yang ease her down into bed. Wriggling her nightdress over her head, Weiss tossed it onto the floor and basked in her nakedness for a second. She could  _ feel _ Yang’s eyes raking up and down her body from this fresh angle. Cracking open one eye as she gave a languid stretch, she watched Yang’s member twitch and begin to harden, if only a little. Gods above it looked magnificent. Already getting so hard again, streaked with white cum and shiny-slick fluid, it also looked... _ delectable _ . It was all Weiss could do not to break her languid character with a visceral mewl.

The animal was back in her holster now, ready for Yang to draw her out the next time she fought (or, if tonight was any indicator, next time she  _ fucked _ ). Now, Weiss was dealing with Yang Xiao Long again, ever the nice and thoughtful friend. Yang took a moment to work her fingers under the elastic band of the sports bra she’d been wearing, visibly slick with sweat. Glancing down, Weiss saw that she’d kicked off her spats on the way to the bed, and now was clad in just that weird half-skirt thing Yang affectionately called an ‘asscape’, her sports bra, and her boots. “So,” the blonde said, a bit awkwardly, “You wanna shower first, or me?”

Weiss hummed, as if thoughtful, despite the fact she’d already made up her mind, “We can decide that later.” She patted the sheets softly, peering up at her friend with some mix of lust and affection in her eyes (or so she hoped). “Sit down for a minute.”

She didn’t understand why Weiss asked yet, but she certainly wasn’t going to turn down an offer to join Weiss in bed, “Oh sure.”

Weiss watched her sit, saw every tired, exhausted muscle shift under sweat-soaked skin. Yang had done so  _ well _ , had done so much for Weiss. It was only fair that Weiss served her a little bit too.

“So, uh, is this the part where we talk about what just happened?” Yang asked, sitting down and scooting her butt back so she was parallel with Weiss. After a moment’s hesitation, she also propped her shoes up onto the bed, looking to see if Weiss would say anything.

Weiss couldn’t stop the little laugh. As much as she cringed as seeing Yang’s no doubt  _ filthy _ combat boots on her bed, she’d already been leaking all over the bed and carpet for a minute now, so cleanliness was probably a lost cause. “I suppose we  _ could _ ,” she began, as inconspicuous as possible. She sat up.

Yang leaned back on her hands, thick mane of blonde hair spilling back over her shoulders, “So was this just...ya know, a one-time thing or…?”

Weiss paused, having never considered the thought that Yang might not want to do this again. Just a touch of anxiety entered her gut. “I wasn’t exactly in my clearest mindset, but I meant what I said earlier, Yang.”

A touch of heat entered Yang’s gaze for a second, “All of it?”

Rocking forward onto her hands and knees, so that her head was even with Yang’s, Weiss committed, “ _ All _ of it,” and, after a second, she added, “Blondie.”

It opened up Yang’s mood a bit, pulling out a laugh, “You know with your voice, the whole ‘blondie’ thing doesn’t really work.”

“Maybe,” Weiss said, slowly lowering her belly down until she felt the sheets rub against her breasts. She watched Yang’s eyes snap backwards for a second, towards her ass, pupils blown wide as she engraved the image into her brain (or that’s what Weiss hoped Yang was doing anyway). 

Weiss thought about continuing the banter, she really did. It was fun, and one of the hidden pleasures she’d never thought she’d enjoy before she befriended Yang. But no, Yang was very visibly enjoying sharing a bed with her nude and cum-slicked friend. She was hard again, and it sent Weiss’s heart aflutter. Already, just a few minutes after cumming twice, and Yang was ready again. How positively  _ virile _ .

And Weiss had a reward to give.

“So, what does this all….what does this….what are you doing, Weiss?” Yang asked, as Weiss grew closer.

She lowered her body down the rest of the way, feeling the plush duvet under her bare skin, her shoulders just about even with Yang’s hips. Laying out languid on her own bed, she rests her cheek on the crest of Yang’s hip. Brothers, she was close enough to  _ smell _ it.

She’d hesitated so many times before, denied her curiosity so often. Alone in her bed, her arousal stretching wetly between her fingers, she’d always turned away, washed her hands. Never could she convince herself to push past her squeamishness for the sake of knowledge, to finally find out what she tasted like. Like this, though? With that very same arousal giving Yang’s abs and cock a glistening shine, intermingled with Yang’s cum and decorating her skin?

Weiss couldn’t  _ wait _ to taste it.

Shifting closer, inch by inch, Weiss said, “Well, you mentioned taking showers…”

Yang cleared her throat, awkwardness in her voice but not making any move to halt Weiss’s advance, “Uh, yeah, I did.”

Weiss hummed, akin to a purr, “It just seems…” she was close enough now that she was  _ sure _ Yang could feel her breath on sensitive skin, “...such a waste to just wash it all down a drain.”

It finally seemed to register in Yang’s head what Weiss was about to do, and her eyes blew wide, “Oh, you want to…oh”

“You did so much good work earlier, so let me do a little work for you,” Weiss reached out a hand to gently caress her friend, push her just an inch closer to Weiss’s lips. “How about,” she began, her voice a hoarse, breathy whisper, “I clean you up a little myself, first.” Finally, slowly, luxuriously, her tongue pressed into the slick base and ran up, collecting a heady sample of their mixed fluids on her tongue. The second the taste registered on her tongue, she let out a heady moan.

It was  _ delicious _ .

A thick, salty sort of taste, so very  _ Yang _ in its boldness. Her own was thinner, sweeter, but they complemented each other elegantly, like a fine wine and steak pairing. Weiss needed more.

Yang let out a throaty moan at the contact, her hips rutting up just a centimeter, too tired to properly mount and take Weiss, but that was fine. This was a reward after all, for all her hard work.

Their combined essence meant Weiss’s hand had a smooth glide, up and down. She felt the thick, hot flesh under her fingers. Felt it warm her palm like nothing else could. She felt the thick, viscous fluid coating her skin and painting her face when her cheeks made contact by accident. The heat though, it was intoxicating, and so Weiss took a moment. She scooted down the bed until she was perpendicular to Yang. She caught those lilac eyes and slowly, deliberately pressed Yang’s slick, wet cock against her cheek, letting the organ rest on her face in a way that set Weiss’s knees trembling.

Almost involuntarily, Yang’s hand came to rest heavy on Weiss’s head as she moved up. Weiss pressed soft, trembling lips against Yang’s shaft, could feel every hard heartbeat run though it as she drug her way slowly, languidly up, sloppily capturing as much of their combined fluid in her mouth and on her face as she could. Finally reaching the top, Weiss broke eye contact with her friend. She wrapped her thin, lightly calloused fingers around Yang’s base and felt her throb in her grip. She breathed in, leating the heady, musky scent fill her lungs. She wet her lips.

And then she arched her neck, and took Yang into her mouth.

_ Immediately _ , Yang groaned, throwing her head back as the slick warmth embraced her length. Weiss wasted no time, stoking the base of Yang’s dick where her lips couldn’t reach, and bobbing her head up and down along where she could. It was a remarkable feeling, not as rawly pleasurable as feeling Yang plowing her, but just as intimate, just as rich. She could feel the head of Yang’s cock against her tongue, taste her. She was intimately aware of every shift and throb and Yang basked luxuriously in the pleasure Weiss was giving her.

White hair clutched in a fingerless glove bobbed smoothly up and down in Yang’s lap, accompanied by gentle sucking sounds and quiet moans of pleasure. Yang’s legs were spread widely, not caring one bit about how she looked or what mask she was showing to the world. A low, pleasured chuckle left her mouth as Weiss sunk farther down, taking more into her mouth, “You’re... _ real _ good at this, Weiss.”

With her right hand, Weiss moved down to cup Yang’s balls, still so full for her. Yang moaned her appreciation. Weiss toyed with them for a moment, before pulling back off of her lover’s shaft, “After what you did to me, you deserve it,” Weiss said, hoping the praise would encourage Yang to take the initiative next time. To come onto Weiss and take her of her own volition. “So just sit back and enjoy.”

Yang laughed again, hand pushing Weiss down so that her cock rested on Weiss’s face again, “Can do, Schnee.”

It sent a shudder down Weiss’s spine, she  _ loved _ Yang acknowledging her last name. How very far she’d strayed from what was ‘Proper’ for a Schnee to do. She was to always hold herself higher than those around her, always be separate and above. It was lonely at the top, but this? She lowered her head, nuzzling into Yang’s package gratefully and feeling it’s heat on her face, cum and pre and her own arousal smeared on her cheeks and across her tongue. Down here, it was much less  _ lonely _ . A much better place for her, she thought, down low, underneath a cock or pussy, servicing whoever was lucky enough to recieve her. Servicing Yang.

Moving back up at Yang’s gentle tugging, Weiss layed a gentle, trembling kiss on Yang’s glans before slipping the head back into her mouth and giving it a gentle but firm suck. She bobbed up and down, not bothering to hide the gentle, wet sounds.

A few short minutes of quiet gasps and moans from Yang as Weiss worked her over with the best blowjob she could offer, and Yang’s hips were beginning to misbehave. Short, jerky half-thrusts, the same kind she did earlier when Weiss had to all but beg Yang to take her properly.

She knew what Yang wanted to do then, and she knew it now, too.

And  _ Brothers _ did it set her alight.

The fist in Weiss’s hair tightened imperceptibly, and red began to bleed into Yang’s eyes. “I’m, I’m getting real close Weiss,” she growled, naked pleasure on her face.

Weiss took her moment. Pulling off of her new favourite toy with a wet gasp, she panted between gluttonous breaths, “In my mouth, or on my face, I don’t care.”

This time, Yang laughed, “You know, I’m starting to see a pattern.”

Weiss rolled her eyes and grumbled, “ _ Finally _ .”

A stern tug of her hair set her back to work with a visceral whine, and she sank Yang’s cock between her lips again, bobbing and sucking and stroking rhythmically, working for Yang’s third gift all over her face. 

Finally, Yang gasped, and forced Weiss down a bit farther than she would have gone on her own. It cut off her air supply, made it so that she couldn’t breathe, but that was fine. Diligently, Weiss sucked a little harder, rubbed her tongue along Yang’s underside a little firmer. 

Finally, with no real effort of her own, Yang leaned back against her left arm, pushed Weiss down on her cock with her right, and dumped her load into Weiss’s mouth.

The first rope shot across her tongue and let her heart aflutter, somehow tasing even better fresh from the source. Pressing in of her own volition, Weiss moaned and sucked, using her hand to milk Yang’s cock. Even on her third load, Yang had plenty to give. Each throb sent with it string of thick, rich fluid that filled Weiss’s mouth and slipped from around her lips. When it became evident that there was no way she could keep it all easily in her mouth, she pulled off the cock and resumed her place underneath it.

Eyes and mouth pressed closed, Weiss Schnee moaned as Yang released onto her face.

The tension dropped from Yang in an instant. Gasping for air, she released Weiss, eyes burning with the warm embers of satisfied lust. Cracking her eyes open, Weiss swallowed her gift and asked, voice hoarse but happy, “How do I look?”

Yang opened her mouth to respond, but her brain seemed to short-circuit when Weiss’s lips found her cock again. She hissed, “Ooh, Weiss, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to go for another one.”

Weiss laughed (giggled, almost, but she’d never admit that to herself), “Don’t worry, I’m actually cleaning you off this time,” before resuming her work.

The soft sound of Weiss suckling and licking Yang’s waning body filled the room for a time, as Yang lounged against the headboard. At some point, Yang began running her fingers through Weiss’s hair, to which Weiss moaned her appreciation at the affection. 

A few minutes of diligent cleaning and petting later, Yang asked, “So, I was gonna ask earlier before you sorta jumped me with round three, but what does all this mean?”

Pulling back to give her jaw a much-needed rest, Weiss leaned her cum-stained cheeks on Yang’s thigh, feeling the larger woman twitch at the wet sensation, “What do you mean?”

Yang shrugged, “I mean, I’ve never uh, done anything like this before. Honestly I’m surprised I got as into it as I did.”

Weiss’s work, there, getting Yang riled up enough to fuck her properly, but she could dow ithout the recognition. Her sore cunt was it’s own reward.

Weiss gave Yang’s cock an appreciative lick, “A welcome surprise, I hope?”

Yang smiled, “Yeah, don’t worry about that. It’s just…” She rubbed at the back of her neck, a little awkward, “You said you don’t want this to be a one-time thing, so what does that mean. Are we...together, now? Or just doing something casual.”

A blush stained Weiss’s cheeks, not having seriously considered that route in the heat of her lust. Ironic that, even after all they had done, all  _ she _ had done, that night...this still made her blush. “No, I...uhm.” Weiss shook her head, starting again, “You’re one of my best friends, Yang, and the idea of being in a relationship with you is certainly an appealing prospect…”

“But?”

Weiss nodded, “But, I’d rather this remain purely physical for now. I’ve got to work out for myself what I really want from all this.”

Yang crooked her head to the side, once more like a puppy (though the ‘cute’ factor was diminished somewhat by just how  _ ravished _ Weiss felt) and asked, “What do you mean?”

She thought on it for a second, before explaining, “This is new to me, too, and I need to figure out where the line is between what I want to become true, and what I want to remain fantasy. Before I commit to a relationship, I want to make sure I  _ can _ commit to it, and be happy within the bounds of it.”

“Oh,” Yang said, before her eyes widened a bit, “ _ Oh _ , you wanna sleep around, don’t you?”

Weiss pursed her lips, the phrase doing hot, pleasant things to her loins, “I find the idea very...exciting, but I’m not sure if it’s something I want to be real or not yet. Maybe one day, if you’ll have me, but just...not yet. As it stands,” it took her a moment to build up the courage to say it (as normal-Weiss was coming back into her head), “I quite...enjoy the idea of having spontaneous, casual sex with a woman I’m not in a formal relationship with, if you understand.” To hammer the point home, Weiss gave Yang’s cock another soft kiss.

A wild sort of grin came on Yang’s face, “I can work with that. So no romantic picnics or movie dates?”

Weiss smiled, picking herself up of of the bed. Walking towards the shower with her back to Yang, she tried to sashay her hips left and right, doing her best to accentuate her ass and the pale ribbons of Yang’s cum that still painted Weiss’s inner thighs with a nice, bred glisten. She felt that ember burning in the pit of her gut, and Yang’s eyes scalded her, Weiss said, “No, but if you feel the need to empty yourself one night, feel free to slip into my bed and get off inside me instead. I’ll make sure not to wear any underwear.”

She managed to catch herself in the mirror, just like she had earlier in her nightgown. Her face was streaked with cum, smeared on her cheeks and still sitting in ropey strands across her forehead and nose and hair. A rich red hickey adorned her neck, and her breasts glowed pink with tender skin. There was a faint bruise on her hip bone, and her belly and thighs were sticky with Yang’s release. From between her thighs, thin strands of her own arousal and Yang’s semen formed small, sticky bridges between them, and her pussy, a pretty pink with exertion, still slowly leaked the cum that Yang had pumped into her.

This was Weiss Schnee, she thought. Heiress to the largest Dust Mining and Refinement operation on Remnant, raised in high-class balls under private teachers, taught etiquette and regality before she was taught to read. Here was she, Weiss thought, naked as the day she was born and so  _ well-fucked _ .

She licked at an errant stand of cum on her face, and eyed Yang in the reflection for a moment, taking note that, Yes, Yang was hard again.

She looked at the woman in the mirror, dripping with fluids both her own and foreign. Eyed the milky white that spattered her platinum hair and pink skin, eyed the slick arousal on her thighs and the clear signs of a hard fucking that anyone (and, indeed,  _ everyone _ ) could see.

_ What a slut. _

That night, Weiss lay on her stomach in bed, unable to sleep. Ruby and Blake snoozed in their bunks peacefully. All was quiet in Beacon’s dorms.

Then, Weiss felt a foreign weight depress her bed, felt a hand tugging down her blanket, tugging up the skirt of her nightgown. She’d not put on underwear.

And when Yang mounted her from behind and  _ took _ her, Weiss had to gnaw her bedsheets to keep quiet. When Yang pressed deep inside and filled her, Weiss could do nothing but whine and accept it gratefully. And when Yang pulled out and left without so much as ‘goodbye’, Weiss finally fell asleep, happy and content with how far she’d pushed her envelope.

For now.

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note:
> 
> Well, what can I say. If you enjoyed (or if you ‘enjoyed’) this, you have Quarantine and half a bottle of Gin to thank. Got bored, thought ‘there’s not enough of Weiss being a bit slutty and/or getting railed by Yang’, drank half a bottle of Seagram’s and a buncha Sprite. Woke up facedown on my kitchen floor with this on my desk and in need of heavy editing. So if you enjoyed, write me a review if you’re nice or have advice, buy me a Ko-Fi if you’re real nice and have a bit of disposable income (ko-fi.com/mind_in_a_jar), or ask me about commissions if you’re all of the above and have an idea for a story. 
> 
> Cheers all, drink and be merry!
> 
> Disclaimer: Do NOT rub your vaginas on coworkers. I can guarantee it won’t work out as well as it did for Weiss-cream here.
> 
> A Mind in a Jar


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